


If Only Without Magic

by DaughterOfAthena



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon deaths, Hidden Magic, Lavellan is a mage and rogue, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Self-Hatred, its a what if sort of story, secret mage, whoa what
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 71,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfAthena/pseuds/DaughterOfAthena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thedas fears mages. Many are sent to Circles to live their lives in captivity, bring watched by Templars constantly. Some live in the Wilds, being the mages if dark tales. Then there are Dalish mages, who learn to practice their magic in the safety if the clan.</p><p>Hadiden Lavellan is the son of two of the best hunters if Clan Lavellan. Early in his life, he learns that he has magic, making him a mage. Instead of informing the Keeper, the Dalish child keeps his magic a secret out of fear.</p><p>When Lavellan is sent to the Conclave to investigate the solution to the Mage Rebellion, he is thrown into the Inquisition and struggles with keeping his life long secret a secret. What more is that Hadiden has feelings for Dorian but is afraid to let him in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magic at Hand

**Author's Note:**

> The idea came to me that there had to be hidden mages, too scared of temptation and too afraid to be separated from their families to let their magic be known. This is how my Inquisitor deals with his fear of his magic and learning to basically accept who he is.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story and of there's any mistakes, please let me know!

The forest was silent. Not a single animal could be heard as the Dalish boy sat behind a fallen tree, tears forming in his eyes. He was far away from his clan, supposed to be fetching water for his mother. Instead, he sat by the water bucket and stared at his small hands.

What those in the clan didn't know, what the boy just learned, was that in the bucket was a frozen bird, one that had come too close to the boy. The young Dalish had been startled and threw a hand up and, without realizing it, called upon ice magic to protect himself. The bird was dead and slowly thawing as the boy cried. 

He was a mage.

In clan Lavellan, there were already three mages; the Keeper, the First, and the Second of the Keeper. The whole clan knew that another mage could not be born until the Keeper took her long sleep and there were only two mages left in the clan. With the Dalish boy showing magical talents, he would be sent away with a pack, to live within the city and fend for himself. If that were to happen, as it did with other clans, the Dalish would have to steal for food and possibly be attacked by shemlans. If he didn't die from the shems, Templars would take him away to a Circle, filled with humans and elves alike, learning to hone their magical abilities. If he wasn't sent to a shemlan city, he would he sent to another clan to become their First. While he would be surrounded by the People, he would be without his mother and father, his friends, and his clan. The child didn't want to be separated from his clan. Yet, he had magic and the clan he loved dearly could send him away. 

The Dalish boy, who was only seven years old, wiped his eyes and looked in the bucket at the bird. He gave a quiet apology and placed the body in the river, hoping it would melt before someone seen a frozen bird and suspected the child. He then took to bucket and dipped it into the water, getting as much as he could carry in it and hauled it back to his clan.

Clan Lavellan wasn't very big, but it wasn't very small either. There were seven children under the age of thirteen and six children were nearly the age of eighteen. Two of those older children were mages. Each child had two parents, besides two children who one only had a mother and the other only had a father left. Then there was the Keeper. There were ten elders to the clan, but their Harhen was the boy's grandmother, Isulith Lavellan.The boy had both his parents, whom were which two of the best hunters of the clan. Everyone, including the Keeper, suspected the child would be a marvelous hunter, just like his parents.

The child struggled into the camp, his arms tired from carrying the full bucket for so long. He was almost to the tent when he heard his mother's voice.

"Hadiden! Da'len, what took you so long? Did you lose yourself on the way to the river?"

Anudia Lavellan was born and raised in clan Lavellan. As Hadiden heard before, his mother was the jewel of the clan. Harhen Isulith had said Anudia had the attention of nearly all the boys of the clan when she was younger, before his father had come to the clan. She was fast and smart, had dexterous fingers that seemed to tie knots and fire arrows quicker and cleaner than the other hunters. The clan believed that Anudia would have bonded with Dryden, another skilled hunter, but she had not. It was almost three days before Dryden planned to ask Anudia to bond with him when an elf came running towards the camp. Dryden and another hunter had found him running, looking like he may faint, and led him into the camp. Once there, the elf actually fainted. The man was asleep for several hours before he woke up and explained to the Keeper that he had run from the Alienage in Kirkwall, which was rather far since the clan was closer to Ostwick rather than the City of Chains. The Keeper used some magic to heal wounds that he had gotten, ones which he would not explain, and was told to take comfort and to not worry for he was home. When Anudia returned, the Keeper informed her of the new arrival and asked if she would help train him as a hunter when he regained his strength. Anudia agreed. The man, Jarron, would later fall in love with Hadiden's mother. He would ask the Harhen, Anudia's mother, if he could bond with her. Of course, with permission, Jarron asked and she accepted. Two months later, Anudia was with child.

Hadiden didn't answer his mother, just handed her the bucket and stared. Her blonde hair was graying, but she was still beautiful. The boy always compared his mother to flowers, but only the ones he really liked. Like the pink and purple ones that would bloom in the spring. Her blue eyes sparkled like the river and, even when Hadiden did wrong and was scolded, she still had a look of compassion locked in those eyes. She worked so hard, even if she no longer hunted. She cooked and helped in camp. Recently, she had been showing Hadiden some of the basics of hunting. 

Hadiden knew his father was hunting and that most of the clan was with him. He could tell his mother what happened.

When Anudia poured the water into the cauldron, she poked at the embers under it before turning to Hadiden. His mother knelt down in front of him and smiled. Hadiden could see worry lines, which he would realize were age lines when he was older, and felt his heart clutch. A soft thumb wiped his cheek.

"Da'len, what is the matter? Your eyes are red. Were you hurt?" Anudia cupped Hadiden's cheek. The action made him want to cry again. Why was she always sweet?

"Mama, something happened in the forest." Hadiden tried to brush his mother's hand away. Her blue eyes widened at the action, probably not understanding why he was acting strange.

"What happened, Hadiden? Did you see someone?"

Hadiden shook his head and motioned for his mother to come closer, cupping his hands to whisper in her ear.

"I froze a bird," He stopped, fearing if he should say the word to confirm what that statement meant. "Mama, I have magic. I'm a mage."

Like in the forest before, the clan seemed quiet. That was impossible because no one could hear him whisper to his mother, but to Hadiden, everything was quiet, too quiet.

Hadiden stepped back, hanging his head and staring at his bare feet. They were covered in mud and probably small wounds. They would heal, leaving his feet with scars and calluses one day, but right now, they had grass and mud stuck to them. 

A callused hand cupped Hadiden's chin and lifted it so that his pale blue eyes would meet the river blue ones of his mother. She was smiling, brushing a strand of hair behind a pointed ear with her free hand. "Hadiden, darling," she said, voice soft and quiet, calming. "Don't worry, all right? Stay in the tent until your father comes home and we will talk more of it when he returns. It will be okay."

Hadiden looked over his mother's Vallaslin, following the lines of the black bow, a design dedicated to Andruil. It was the simple design, not like the one their clan's other hunters had. Hadiden knew that it would be a few more years before he got his Vallaslin. The lines of the bow mixed with the details for the arrows always struck Hadiden as beautiful. His mother's heart shaped face was made for the Vallaslin design.

The Dalish did as was told and scurried into the tent to wait until near sundown when his father came back from hunting.

Hadiden barely knew anything about his father. He knew that he came from Kirkwall and that he had run away to join a clan. Why he ran away was never told to Hadiden. Only his mother knew the story behind the man.

Hadiden sat in silence, trying to not think about his magic. He didn't want anything to catch on fire or to blow up or anything. He remembered watching the Keeper's First accidentally set a bush on fire when she was learning some kind of fire spell. The boy knew there was danger and if he tried to use this gift, he might get hurt. 

Outside, he could hear his mother tell other clan members that Hadiden was not feeling well and that he was resting. She said he should be up and playing again tomorrow. Hadiden didn't know if he should believe that he would be playing or if he would want to hide more. What would he do if his father made him tell the Keeper and she made him go away? Would he know how to find another clan?

The sun set faster than Hadiden knew and before long his mother was bringing in supper and his father followed close behind.

They ate in silence. Hadiden did not want to speak and his father kept giving his son worried glances.

Jarron was a lanky elf but he was strong after years of learning to be a hunter. Even though he was part of the clan, he did not have Vallaslin. Hadiden liked that most about his father; he was with out the markings of a Dalish elf, yet he was as skilled as any other Dalish hunter. His father was strong too. When he wasn't hunting, he would carry wood into the camp for fires and to repair the Halla pen. That was usually only when they moved to a new area.

Hadiden studied his father, his appetite completely gone. His face looked like a log; long and strong with high cheek bones that didn't point out. His jaw was smooth and evened out his face. The bridge of his nose was straight, like most elves. Hadiden ran a finger along the bridge of his nose, making sure it really was like his father's. Hadiden didn't know that his nose was the shape of his father's but was skinnier and rounded at the tip, which made it almost like a rabbit's nose, or so some of the girls of the clan would say one day. Jarron always had a stoic expression, his thin lips pressed tight as though he was angry. His borrows where usually burrowed together, like he was thinking. That was something Anudia had loved because she could make that expression fade with just a simple touch, such as a kiss or a graceful hand on his shoulder.

Hadiden asked to be excused from eating and quickly made to his bed roll, hiding under the covers so that he wouldn't be the one to tell his father of the incident in the forest. 

For a moment, the boy thought he fell asleep until he heard voices behind him.

"...... Ma'Vhenen, you know it's dangerous, for the clan and himself. We need to tell the Keeper-"

"Anudia, we can't. You don't know what happens to them."

"And you do?!"

It was silent for a moment before Hadiden heard his father's voice again. 

"I do, in fact. I knew a few Dalish who were sent away and some who couldn't find other clans. They ended up the same as he did and I will not have our son have that same fate."

"So, what? He keeps it hidden for a few years. He becomes a full member of the clan. What then? How long do you except him to control it?"

"I don't know but I'm sure he will. He has-"

Hadiden sneezed, which silenced both his parents. Dread settled in his stomach at the prospect of them knowing he was awake. 

The feeling of a strong hand was on Hadiden's shoulder. The boy pulled the blanket off of his face to see his father's smiling face. "Hadiden," he said, "did your mother and I wake you? I'm sorry if we did." Hadiden tried to move, to roll over enough so he could sit up. His father had only been angry a moment ago, and yet, he was smiling? He rubbed his eyes then looked at his father, his bottom lip quivering a bit, as though he could cry at any moment. 

"Papa, were you and mama fighting over me?" Hadiden felt small, smaller than he already was. His father shook his head and sighed, soothing Hadiden's hair out of his face. Jarron smiled. "Not intentionally. It was not about you, but more so about what you told your mother this afternoon." His father was silent for a moment before adding, "Hadiden, did your mother ever tell you the story of why I joined the clan?" When Hadiden shook his head, Jarron lifted his son to sit him on his lap. He took the blanket the child was previously hiding under and wrapped it around Hadiden's shoulders. Hadiden stared at his father, eyes full of wonderment. Was he about to hear his father's past?

"I came from Kirkwall, a shemlan city that was once a center for slave trade. I lived in the Alienage. I lived in a dirty home with my mother and brother. I was about thirteen and my brother was ten, but at ten, he learned he was a mage. It was only two weeks after we learned he had magic when Templars, shemlan who hunt mages and watch over them in Circles, came and took my brother away. They said they had come peacefully, but when my brother refused, they tried to force him away. As the older brother, I tried to fight the two Templars to keep my brother, but they beat me, taking my brother with them.

"I first had to recover before my mother let me go to the Gallows, which was where slave trade happened a long time ago but was where the Circle was when I went. At first, they wouldn't let my brother have visitors. It was months before he was allowed to roam the Gallows and see me. I brought him letters and treats from our mother every time I visited, which was about twice a week. We talked and he told me of life in the Circle and his training. 

"One day, on our visiting day, he wasn't there. The Templars told me he had taken his Harrowing, which was a test to see if a mage was able to avoid demon temptation, and that he was resting. I was a fool to think that true and wait until the next week to go see him." Jarron fell silent, as though the memory caused him pain. Hadiden took his father's hand and held it, staring at his face, waiting for him to continue. The boy didn't push, only coaxed. Jarron took a breath and continued.

"He was only twenty, his birthday was only a few days away, so I decided to bring extra sweets for the occasion. Our mother baked cinnamon bread, which was his favorite. It had costed her a fortune to get the cinnamon, which I had to do some... odd... jobs to get the coin to pay for it. I went to the Gallows that morning with the treats and seen my brother standing, seeming to be talking to a Templar. I went up to him and told him I brought a gift for his coming birthday. When... " Jarron stopped again, taking another breath. "When he turned around, I nearly dropped the basket of bread. My brother thanked me, saying that it was not necessary, but his voice had no emotion. His forehead was branded with the Chantry symbol, a red sun. They had made my brother tranquil, which is a mage that is cut off from the Beyond and is defenseless, even though I was informed by a friendly Templar that he had passed the Harrowing. I went home that evening and informed my mother. Two months later, my mother passed from disease, and I ran away."

Hadiden stared. His father was staring far away, as though he was reliving the scene when he learned his brother was tranquil. He saw tears forming in his father's eyes, and Hadiden moved from sitting on his father's lap to hugging him. Jarron spoke softly, saying, "I had made friends with other mages my brother was friends with. I had to watch those few friends go through what he did. I had to leave. When I did, I ran for a clan, hoping to find one. I stumbled on Clan Lavellan and was taken in. And.. you know the rest, Hadiden."

Hadiden stayed hugging his father for awhile. Minutes passed before Hadiden asked, "what was your brother's name, Papa?" 

"Edrin. His name was Edrin." Jarron was quiet and Hadiden just kept hugging his father. He wanted his father to stop being a sad. 

"Papa, is that why you're sad? Because he was a mage and so am I?" Hadiden pulled away to look at his father with big, wide eyes. Was the magic in his veins the problem?

Jarron shook his head. "No, Hadiden. That is not why I am sad. I'm sad because my brother was treated unfairly because of his magic. I am sad because I fear that clan Lavellan will send you away if they learn you are a mage and that you would share the fate of my brother. I do not wish to see that on you. That is why I am sad."

A tear ran down Jarron's face, and Hadiden felt like screaming. He had never seen his father cry, and he never wanted to again.

Jarron wiped his cheek and looked right at Hadiden. "Hadiden, you must keep your magic hidden. You mustn't let the clan know that you are a mage, do you understand?" Hadiden nodded. "Good. Do not use your magic unless it is an emergency, and even then, do it alone. Do not let anyone know. If something happens and you know it was you, hide. Do not let the clan suspect your magic. You must stay safe."

Hadiden nodded and smiled. "I will, Papa. I'll keep it secret. It will be okay."

With that, Hadiden was tucked back into bed and was told that everything would be okay.

Hadiden made a promise to himself to never, ever, let anyone know about his magic. He had to be safe.


	2. Troubles of the Mage

Hadiden was hidden, his bow string taunt as he aimed at a wolf, one that had killed a halla. That was the third one that had been taken from the clan.

With a slow exhale, the Dalish let go of the string and watched as his arrow pierced the air, hitting the wolf. Quickly, Hadiden took out another arrow and shot it at the wolf, hitting it again as it went down, bleeding. He planned to take it to camp, and there he would give it a prayer for the right of passage and thanks for providing for the clan. 

Hadiden slowly climbed down from the tree to help end the wolf's pain. With a quiet apology, he killed the wolf with his hunting knife. 

"That'll teach you to mess with our halla." Hadiden gave a glance to the dead animal before wiping the blade clean on his tights. 

The boy sheathed his blade and stretched, his muscles stiff from being still for as long as he was. He kept his hands in fists as he stretched his arms up, to the side, back, and down. If he slipped, if his hand were to open...

The sound of a branch breaking brought Hadiden out of own mind, taking out his bow and an arrow in a fluid movement, aiming where the noise came from. 

Hadiden stared eye to eye with a halla. It wasn't one from the clan, just a wild one. The Dalish lowered his bow and walked slowly to the creature, holding out a hand as a sign of peace. He couldn't remember exactly how to approach a halla, it was usually the herder's job to coax the wild ones into tame ones to be part of the clan. Yet, this halla stared at the elf, taking tentative steps closer to smell the out reached hand. Hadiden smiled at the beautiful creature and, once close enough, he pet her head. 

The white coat was beyond soft. Some of the halla in the clan didn't have this soft of a coat. The halla had a coat that was softer than even some of the clan's finer cotton. Hadiden wanted to bring her to the clan.

"Beautiful. It's a shame you're out here alone, but you like being alone, don't you?" Hadiden watched the halla flick her ears, listening to him. "You could join my clan. We have halla that I'm sure you'd like. You'd be safe too, and you could see me everyday." The halla snorted and Hadiden laughed. "I don't know if that was a yes or no. You can return with me if you please. I have to return to tell my clan of the death of one of our halla."

Hadiden slowly removed his hand and walked to the dead bodies of the halla and wolf. At first, he contemplated how he would get them back to the clan, then decided to use his spare blanket. If he laid the two bodies on the blanket and dragged it back, it would be easier than throwing them over his shoulders. Of course, he had to be careful of sticks and sharp rocks in the forest so that he didn't damage the blanket. 

Carefully, he laid the wolf then the halla on the blanket and grabbed the corners. He hoped that the wild halla followed so that his clan didn't really lose another of their guides. 

The truck through the forest was long since Hadiden usually scouted away from the clan, as far as he dared. 

Hadiden was seventeen, a full member of the clan, as indicated by his Vallaslin, and one of the best hunters. His Vallaslin was tribute to Mythal, the goddess of judgement and protection. At first, he was weary to have the Vallaslin of Mythal because she was also the goddess associated with love and motherhood, but the protection part had stuck with him. Since Hadiden learned of his magic, he constantly invoked Mythal for protection. It seemed fitting that he honor her with his Vallaslin, which was traditional black, contrasting his fair skin, and the most detailed of the versions of the design. The branches spreading across his forehead, under his eyes, and the roots expanding on his chin. He planned to add more, let the roots connect down his neck and spread over his shoulders, but that would be in a few years. 

When he returned to the clan, a few of the hunters guarding the perimeter greeted him and looked shocked to see what the young Dalish was carrying behind him.

"Lethallin! How did... where... you brought back another halla?" The hunter, Vessa, stared at the blanket piled with the dead animals and the halla following. Vessa was a year younger than Hadiden and was rather blunt about how she had feelings for him. On multiple occasions, Hadiden had to remind her that they were still considered children and could not bond, and nor did he want to bond any time soon. He said he wanted to focus on hunting but really, he wasn't able to admit he was a mage and that bonding would mean the risk of having a child who was a mage.

"The wolf had already killed our halla before I found and killed it. This halla had come from no where and was friendly. I asked if she wanted to come back to the clan and it seems that she did. If you will, can you bring these animals to my father while I take her to the pen with the rest?" Hadiden spoke nearly without emotion. He learned it was best to quickly state what needed to be done than to assume Vessa would know what to do. She nodded and took the blanket, and Hadiden turned to look at the halla. 

The creature didn't look scared. If fact, she looked calm and relaxed. Hadiden smiled and held a hand out towards her. "Come now. You'll be safe here and you have friends among the other halla." The halla nudged his hand, and Hadiden laughed.

He was tempted to take the halla back to his parents, to show that he had friended one of the most sacred animals to the Dalish. Instead he took her to the halla pen, introduced her to the halla master and left her to be acquainted with the others. 

Hadiden felt lost. The sun was too low to go back out hunting, but it was still too high to go into his tent for the night. That meant that he would need to stay out and find something to do before he was able to rest and wake for another day of hunting. Out of habit, he went towards the tent where his parents were, where they should have been working to prepare the wolf and halla.

Anudia and Jarron looked older. Anudia had nearly all gray hair, tied into a long braid down hair back. Her skin was still smooth and fair, the Vallaslin bringing her the look of her younger years. Jarron was graying too. His dusty brown hair was turning silver, and he had a few wrinkles. Hadiden knew that elves didn't age quickly, they aged slower than shemlan, but his parents were aging quicker than he imagined. He figured that some of the aging was due to their constant worry over him, over his magic, and guilt washed over him as he couldn't help the lyrium coursing through him. 

When he approached them, Anudia smiled, a smile that was nearly as bright as the sun, and hugged her son. Hadiden hugged back and smiled. He was slightly taller than his mother now yet the same height as his father. 

"Welcome back, lethallin. Your hunt must have gone very well if you came back with a wolf and the halla. Falon'din guide her now, it's good that she was brought back rather than left." Anudia kept smiling as she cupped her son's cheeks, wiping away some dirt on his cheek then brushing hair from his eyes. She sighed. "Hadiden, when are you going to let your hair grow out? It is far too messy to stay short as it is. You need to either cut it shorter or let it grow out like Tavel's or Leron's hair. Or you could get your father to help you shave the sides and have the middle fairly long." Hadiden smiled and took his mother's hands in his, laughing. "Mother, please. I like my hair as it is." Anudia pouted. "But it sticks up every which way and it gets in your face! How can you hunt without seeing?" 

"I hunt just fine with the way it is. I like it." Hadiden released his mother's hands and ran his own hand through his hair. He had cut it a few times, mostly using his hunting knife. He remembered he recently had cut it, watching his hair fall in piles on the ground. His mother looked sad afterwards, saying that it looked like sunflowers had their petals plucked clean and thrown onto the floor every time he cut his hair. Hadiden always laughed, saying his hair wasn't as bright as sunflowers, that it was more of a sand color, but she never listened. 

Hadiden moved away from his mother and knelt down to help his father skin and clean the wolf. Twice he had to go and fetch some clean water to clean the meat, but it gave Hadiden space, which was always good. Being too close to the clan always made him feel on edge. It gave him the feeling that at any moment someone could sneak up behind him and he would accidentally use his magic, or that he would hear something and would react with magic. Being an untrained mage left him easy pray and his magic always took advantage of his emotions. 

When the wolf and halla were clean, Hadiden started to work and make the fire hotter. Hadiden heard foot steps and a moment later seen his father's figure in the corner of his view. That didn't stop him from poking at the embers.

"Yes, Father? Am I needed?" Hadiden asked, staring at the swirling red and orange colors, watching as the logs charred as the flames engulfed them.

"I came to ask how you were doing. Is all well?" Jarron asked, voice quieter than usual. Hadiden sighed, knowing that his father was asking if his magic was acting up or if he thought anyone suspected anything. He shook his head. "All is well. Is everything fairing well with the clan? I'm hardly here since I'm always hunting."

"I heard Vessa talking of you yesterday. She seems very interested in you, and she's a very skilled girl. Have you considered her as your bonded?" Hadiden blinked, turning away from the fire to stand and look at his father. His words were lined with pure curiosity and hope. Was his father really asking if he wanted to bond? 

"Are you... Father you can't actually be asking this, can you? I'm... you know I can't do that. I run a risk of... " Hadiden didn't finish. He wanted to say _I run a risk of being found out as a mage. I risk her safety by being close to her. If anything, I'll risk mage children._ But he didn't. His father would know that that was what he was going to say. 

"Hadiden, you're.. you're almost of age. You're a full member of the clan now. If you only talked with the Keeper, I'm sure she would allow you-"

"Allow me what? To stay? To keep living my secret? Father, by the Dread Wolf, I can't do that. You know what kind of risk that would be to her, to myself, to the clan, and to children if we had them. The answer is no. I will not consider bonding. I am going to focus on hunting and protecting everyone from the creatures out there, the shemlan, and myself." Hadiden was shaking with rage and balled his fists. Without warning, the fire behind him exploded. It wasn't big enough to draw attention, but it was enough for Hadiden, his father, and mother to know it was him. From habit, Hadiden quickly made for the tent and closed the opening behind him, making his way to his bed roll and throwing his nice blanket over himself. 

Why was his father asking for such a thing? He was a danger! Did he not just witness that he just made a fire explode? What if he got angry with his bonded and made a fire explode or worse, hurt her? Did his father not understand that his emotions and magic reacted with one another and that it was only for the best of the clan that he stay away from everyone, that he didn't develop attachments or feelings so that no one got hurt? He was doing this so he wasn't thrown out or hurt someone! 

Hadiden closed his eyes, fighting tears back. He wasn't going to bond. He was going to hunt. He was going to protect the clan. He wouldn't put anyone in danger. He wasn't going to leave.

Despite the anger Hadiden felt, his body slowly relaxed and he found himself falling asleep. It wasn't the first time he had gone to sleep without eating, just the first time falling asleep angry.

 

The Beyond was always an interesting experience. Sometimes Hadiden found himself in a field, surrounded by an ocean of flowers. The flowers were always vibrate colors, contradicting the grayish green mush colors of the real Beyond. Sometimes Hadiden found himself in a limitless forest, with birds calling and small creatures bounding about. A few times had Hadiden found himself on a beach, over looking an ocean. This time, it was the clan's camp. 

Hadiden didn't see a single soul in the camp as he walked around. He ran his hand over the arrivals, sighing at the feel of the wood. Everything felt real, it always did.

None of the fires were going, the forest was quiet, and suddenly, there was whistling. Not a bird whistle but a whistle from a person. 

Hadiden looked around one of the arrivals to where the Harhen would tell stories to the children of the clan. Instead of the Harhen sitting on one of the logs, it was another elf. He had long brown hair, pulled tight in a braid down his back. Hadiden tried to concentrate on his face, to see if the elf had Vallaslin, but there weren't any Dalish markings on the man. Hadiden approached him, some what memorized by the whistled song. He knew full well it was a demon, but this demon hadn't tried to track him down and follow. This one was just waiting.

The whistling stopped when the demon looked up to see the Dalish.

"Ahh, so the hidden mage appears. You're a strange one, Dalish," the demon said, flashing a smile. It was almost suggestive. Hadiden blushed and sat across from the demon. "You hide the magic in your blood from your clan, putting every one of them in danger. Yet, you don't tell anyone or run away. You continue to stay. And you don't take any offers the others have given you. Why is that, Dalish?"

The demon looked right at Hadiden, his suggestive smile making Hadiden squirm. Usually the demons made the offer instead of questioning. Was this a different demon?

"I know what happens when someone makes a deal. They turn into abominations and hurt people. I will not give in to temptation for a problem that can be easily kept." Hadiden crossed his arms, straightening his back. He tried to look powerful, despite a blush forming as the demon laughed. 

"Not true, Dalish. Some demons stay with you, enhance your magic, and aren't woken until you're in danger. They can help keep your magic under control so that no one is harmed," the demon slowly stood, making his way to Hadiden. He didn't take long strides, but rather small steps. Hadiden wanted to scream and run but held his ground, staying seated. Weakness was dangerous.

"I could give you that, Dalish," he said. "I could keep your magic strong but hidden. You could stay with your clan, continue hunting, protect them all, stop your parents from worrying, and even better, you could get a wife." The demon knelt down, his thumb and forefinger holding Hadiden's chin. Hadiden looked away, blushing. The demon was touching him. He needed to get away. 

" _Or_ ," he started, "the Dalish doesn't want a wife. Would that be the case? It would make sense, seeing how I appear to you in the form of a man rather than a woman."

Hadiden jerked away, falling back off the log. He stared up at the laughing demon, feeling his face and the tips of his ears heat up. "What... what are you? What kind of demon are you?" Hadiden tried to move more, move to stand. The demon was still laughing and smiling.

"Oh, Dalish, I'm a desire demon. You desire to be normal, to be a normal Dalish, yet the lyrium in your veins withhold you from that. I could keep your magic hidden, allow you to convince your Keeper to let you bond with a man if you pleased. Is that what you desire, Dalish?"

The demon was moving around the log, making his way right up to Hadiden. The mage started to panic. He wanted nothing from this demon. He had to wake up- 

"No, no, no, no. Leave... leave me alone. I don't want anything from a demon." 

Hadiden nearly tripped and screamed, the last thing he remembered was the laughing and smiling of the desire demon.

 

Hadiden sat with a jolt, cold sweat running down his forehead as he tried to steady his breathing. That was the first time a demon had touched him and he allowed it. 

The boy looked down at his hands, clutched tightly around his blanket. Dread settled into Hadiden's stomach as he realized that the blanket was frozen around his hands. His eyes started to sting as tears formed. What if something else had happened while he was asleep? What if something was on fire, or frozen? What if lightning had hit somewhere in camp? The clan would know it wasn't one of the Keeper's apprentices because they knew how to control magic. They would figure out it was him, and he would be sent away or worse. 

Hot tears raced down Hadiden's cheeks, the dread in his stomach mixing with panic. Why couldn't he keep everything under control? Why did he have to be cursed with magic? 

The ice on his blanket started to melt, and Hadiden needed air. The Dalish worked off most of his hunting gear, since he had left it on when he stormed away from his father, and left on his leggings and hunting shirt. Once he was out of his armor, he snuck out of his tent to be met with a bright moon and shining stars. The silence of the camp brought a little relief to him. There were no signs of fire or ice or lightning. That meant only his blanket was effected by his nightmare. 

Hadiden took a seat a few places away from the fire pit near his parents' tent. Without thinking, he laid back to stare at the stars, to find constellations. 

To the right of the giant bow was the halla constellation, and above the halla was Fen'Harel. To the left of the giant bow was the Andruil constellation and below Andruil was Mythal. Mythal was right next to June. Hadiden made up a few of his own, like the arrow head constellation was above the bow, and Fen'Heral was below the hunting knife constellation. He even knew where the constellation he made of his parents was. His parents were below Mythal and June. He left his own constellation of himself alone, away from the other clustered constellations. Hadiden didn't know if this was his way of dealing with his magic or not, but he wanted to be far away. He wanted to keep everyone safe, even from himself. 

Slowly, Hadiden sat up and stared at his hands. He could hurt people, a lot of them, if he wasn't careful. He could set the camp on fire at any given moment. He could strike someone with lightning. He could freeze anyone. He was dangerous and it was all because of his cursed blood. Hadiden sighed and looked up. Maybe tomorrow he would spend the day in the camp and ask the Keeper to add Vallaslin to his body, other than his face. Maybe he could get root designs on the back of his hands and on top of his feet. Maybe she would even add some to his shoulders.

Hadiden rubbed his face and slowly got up from his spot and crept into his tent. Tomorrow was another day, he thought. Tomorrow would be better. It had to be.


	3. Broken Trust

The Planasene forest was Hadiden's favorite forest. The wild life and tall trees always gave him comfort. He could climb the highest tree, be lost to every living thing in Thedas, and not worry. In general, the forest was his favorite place because of the hiding spots. Everyone figured it was because his hiding spots allowed for a better hunt, but he loved the forest for its ability to conceal him, make him feel smaller and no longer a danger.

Hadiden loved the feeling of losing himself to the ocean of green leaves. Spending sixteen years hiding the curse of magic weighed on him, so peace within the top of the trees was always welcome. It gave him time to think, time to breathe, and sometimes it gave him the chance to work with his magic. It gave him confinement to test healing spells and make small balls of fire to keep warm.

The moon was high as Hadiden sat in his tree, waiting for the shemlan to show. For the past five days, he had been sneaking away from the clan to meet a shemlan man. His name was Oliver, and he lived in the village not too far from the clan. He was only two years younger than Hadiden, but given that Hadiden was an elf, he still some how looked younger than the shemlan. He was a handsome shemlan, to say the least; fair skin, Creators know how many freckles he had on his face, and smooth red hair. Oliver always keep his hair tied up, like a horse's tail as Hadiden compared it to. Recently, he had been letting his hair fall to his shoulders than kept in its tie. He was at least a good foot and a half taller than the elf and he was strong. Hadiden grinned, remembering that Oliver had said he worked fields with his father and that required a lot of muscles. 

Hadiden was brought out of his day dreaming as he heard four notes whistled. One high note, a low one, a middle pitched one, then a low one. This was their code to let the other know when they were there at their secret meeting spot. Hadiden mimicked the whistle and climbed down from his branch. 

The elf's feet hit the ground, crunching under the leaves and branches. He looked at his feet for a moment, following the lines of Vallaslin roots across them. He knew that they snaked around his ankles and that's it. He hadn't wanted much more on his legs since it already hurt getting Vallaslin on his feet. 

Carefully, Hadiden wandered to where he heard the whistle and seen Oliver, who was standing and looking up at the top of the trees. Hadiden smiled and snuck around, moving swiftly until he has behind the tree that was behind Oliver. Without warning, Hadiden stepped right up to the shemlan and puffed air right in his ear. Oliver covered his mouth, concealing a scream. Hadiden couldn't help but laugh, laughing until he was doubled over with tears in his eyes. He could hear Oliver saying something, but all he could do was laugh. The scream wasn't very manly to say the least and was rather hilarious.

"Ir abelas, Oliver. My apologies. What... what were you saying?" Hadiden righted himself, wiping away the tears as he looked at the shemlan. Oliver's face was bright red, that much Hadiden could tell in the moonlight. The blush, unfortunately, did not help in hiding the man's freckles. 

"I said that that was an evil thing and no wonder everyone fears the Dalish." Oliver was smiling, obviously cushioning the insult with endearment to show he meant no ill will. Hadiden smiled back, blushing a bit.

"Ah, yes. The evil Dalish. The wild elvish that shemlan come to meet in the middle of the night in a dark, scary forest. No wonder everyone avoids us. We're thieves." Hadiden took a step closer to Oliver. The shemlan laughed and held out a hand towards Hadiden, which he gladly took. 

"All you Dalish are thieves it seems. You just take what you want, don't you?" 

Hadiden smiled, taking one last step and reached up to cup Oliver's cheek. "Only if we like what we see."

Standing on his toes, Hadiden closed the small space between the two of them and kissed the human. This wasn't his first time kissing the man, but it was the first time he had kissed him first. The other few times was started by Oliver.

Hadiden freed his hand from Oliver's and wrapped his arms around his neck. He felt the shemlan grab onto his hips, pulling the elf closer to him. Hadiden felt his ears heat up as Oliver parted his lips, fitting their mouths together. One of his hands moved up to card through red hair. Hadiden always made it a point to make Oliver's hair messy.

It wasn't long before Hadiden was pulling back. He didn't get very far before Oliver was chasing him for more, pressing his lips to the elf's. Hadiden had no complaints and tightened his hold around his neck, wanting more of Oliver. Hadiden took some steps back, pulling the human with him until he felt his back hit a tree. A moan was caught in Hadiden's throat until Oliver bit at his lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue. Hadiden parted his lips enough to let out the trapped moan, which was when Oliver snaked his tongue past Hadiden's lips.

Hadiden groaned at the foreign feeling with Oliver's tongue in his mouth. He was still an inexperienced kisser and barely knew what to do, trying to follow what the other did. When Oliver pulled his tongue back a bit, Hadiden would chase it with his own, moaning. He could feel Oliver smile, making him blush. One of Oliver's hands grabbed onto Hadiden's thigh, and the elf couldn't help but bring his leg up to try and wrap around the shemlan's hip. 

The elf let his head fall back, hitting it against the tree. Oliver took the opportunity at Hadiden's exposed neck to pepper it with kisses and light nips. Hadiden whined, not realizing how sensitive his neck was until it was exposed to the affection it was receiving. He didn't know if he liked the affection or not since it all was still rather new to him.

The shower of kisses ended when Oliver kissed up along his jawline and nipped at his earlobe. Hadiden could feel his smile as he whispered, "we just saw each other last night. How is it that you missed me so much?" 

Hadiden grinned and unwrapped his arms, moving to get Oliver to look him in the eyes. 

"I only get to see you during the night and only while the clan is here. Why wouldn't I miss you?"

Oliver laughed and kissed Hadiden sweetly. "I see your point. If only you didn't have to leave with the clan."

Hadiden looked at Oliver, looking into his eyes. He took a moment to try and memorize the green color of the shemlan's eyes. This was the first person he let close to him, close enough to be in danger of his magic. Oliver was in danger and yet, he let him so close. The elf looked away after a moment, worrying his bottom lip. He considered asking Oliver something the other night. _Maybe..._

"Oliver, what if I left my clan? That way, I wouldn't have to leave you," Hadiden said, not able to look Oliver in the eyes anymore. It was an idiotic question. No human would want an elf to live with them. What would Oliver's family think? Wouldn't it be shameful to have their son have an elven lover? And what of his magic-

"I wouldn't force you to leave, but I promise, if you did, I would take care of you. I wouldn't let anyone in the village harm you, and I wouldn't care what my family would say. They would understand, I'm sure. But it would have to be what you want, Hadiden."

Hadiden's eyes went wide and looked at Oliver. He couldn't mean that, could he? But Hadiden knew that was a lie because Oliver stared at him with... with... the same _compassion_ that his mother did when he would come back from hunting. Oliver was serious about taking Hadiden away. Hadiden felt his heart tighten. This shemlan meant every word. 

Suddenly, Hadiden felt dread and fear settle into his stomach, making his heart ache. If he were to go with Oliver, he would need to know about his magic. He would need to know so he didn't get hurt or so that if Templars did take him, he would understand. Hadiden cared about Oliver too much to hide something like that from him. The elf swallowed, trying to force courage to push away his fears.

"Oliver, if you mean that, then I have to warn you of something." Hadiden gently pushed Oliver away, suddenly needing more distance as though he couldn't even breathe with Oliver pressing against him. The shemlan nodded and waited for Hadiden to continue, to tell him what ever was on his mind.

_Mythal, protect me. Falon'din, guide me now._

"I'm... I... " Hadiden felt a lump in his throat and knew the words wouldn't come out, no matter how hard he tried. He would have to show Oliver rather than tell him. Hadiden closed his eyes as he raised his hands and summoned fire. It wasn't a lot, just enough to make a fire ball in the palm of his hands. At the feeling of the warmth in his hands, the comforting and frightening warmth, Hadiden opened his eyes. To his disbelief, Oliver was taking a slow step away. Quickly, Hadiden made the fire disappear. The elf felt like throwing up.

"Oliver, please, don't... please don't be afraid. I'm not dangerous, I promise. I know how to keep it under control. Please-" Hadiden tried to step away from the tree, trying to step towards Oliver. When Hadiden took a step, Oliver stepped back. Hadiden felt tears build up in his eyes.

"I didn't know you were... are... how could.. how could you keep that from me? And when I was ready to bring you into the village too! Do you know how many people could get hurt in my village because of you?" Oliver was obviously fighting back his anger, yet was moving away from Hadiden rather than towards him. Hadiden stopped.

"I know how to control it! No one in my clan knows about my magic. No one would be hurt-"

"You don't know that! Just... just leave me alone, knife ear!" Oliver spat. Hadiden felt his heart shatter in his chest. As Oliver ran off, back towards the village, the ground around Hadiden started to gather frost. The Dalish didn't care at the moment. He just lost the first person he cared for outside his clan.

Hadiden's knees felt weak as he walked back to the clan. He took his time, afraid that the frost would follow him if he went too fast. Hadiden's heart hurt, broken from trusting, letting in one person, and then watching as his trust be broken and shattered in front of him. Hadiden was fighting back tears as he walked into the clan. The sun was coming up over the horizon, and Hadiden knew that most the clan would be waking up soon. He could walk in, have the clan stare and wonder why he was out late, or hurry up to his tent to sleep the morning away, along with his broken heart. 

The thought of explaing why he was out so late didn't bother Hadiden. He decided to walk right through the camp to make it to his tent. As members woke up, adjusting armor for the day of hunting, Hadiden knew they were stating at him. He was never up and a bout at the crack of dawn, so seeing him in his armor and walking through the camp was already suspicious. 

Once he was at his tent, his father was already up and making some new arrows. Jarron stared as Hadiden walked right past him and went into his tent, crawling under his blanket and laying down. Hadiden wondered if Mythal was even looking out for him now.

Hadiden curled into a ball and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep, to sleep the next few years away. He didn't want to get up and deal with hunting today. Luckily, he got his body to relax and felt himself fall asleep.

 

The Beyond was quiet. It was a lone seashore with the ocean gently crashing against the sand. Hadiden sighed and stepped closer, stepping into the water until it reached his ankles. The cool water against his feet was relaxing and was exactly what Hadiden needed. After all that, after wanting to leave his clan to be...

Hadiden forced back a sob as he tried to forget what had happened. It didn't matter. He was here in the Beyond. Nothing mattered.

As if on cue, a demon appeared beside Hadiden. It was the same desire demon that had been visiting him since he was seventeen, the one that made Hadiden realize that he fancied men over women. Sometimes, the demon didn't tempt him. It was as though he was building trust with Hadiden. Other times, Hadiden had to ignore him because he kept offering him to be normal, to control his powers, to make everything be okay. Hadiden hoped now would be a trust exercise.

"So the Dalish is back. Do you always sleep when your emotions are out of control? Do you find it calming?"

Hadiden shrugged, looking at the Vallaslin on the backs of his hands. "No. I just needed away from the real world."

The demon laughed. "Now why is that? You know every time you come here, I am here to tempt you. Why would you rather come here than stay safe in your world?"

"Because desire and lust decided to betray me. Desire and lust are too dangerous for me to face in the waking world because I cannot tell when they'll tempt me, when they'll bring me to reveal what I am. I find peace here because I know what you want and I know how to deny you of that wish. Is that enough for you, Desire?" Hadiden looked at the demon, watching as the humorous smile didn't fade. Hadiden looked back out at the sea, sighing. "If you would, I don't feel like running in circles with your temptations. I want to be alone. Maybe tomorrow you can find me to tempt me with being normal and such."

The crashing of the waves continued. The elf didn't realize when the demon, just knew that he left because he wasn't talking or adding anything about him finding the Beyond relaxing. 

Magic was a curse. Hadiden was sure of it now more than ever. He was losing his connection to his family, losing motivation to want to stay with the clan, and some days he found it difficult to focus on hunting. He found someone he really cared for and his magic made him scared, made him run away. Hadiden wanted to open his veins, to take his own blood and to rid it of all the lyrium so he wouldn't be cursed with the magic that was causing so much harm to everyone close to him. 

"Curse you, Creators. Fen'Heral take me, I want this magic taken away. I never wanted it." Hadiden swore out to the ocean. No one could hear him. No one was with him. He wished that's how it could always be.


	4. A Long Way From the Clan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here's where Hadiden is taken captive after the Conclave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue doesn't follow the game's perfectly. I hope that doesn't bother anyone.

_Go, Lethallin, and learn what the shemlan make of the War. If we are to keep safe and survive the winter, we must know the decision on the Mage Rebellion. With the fighting, we will never make it through the winter. Go, now. May Falon'din guide you and may the Dread Wolf never hear your steps._

_Hadiden, Da'len, be safe my son. Your father and I will be here when you return. Please be swift. Mythal protect you._

_Da'len, be swift. We await your return. Please, please be safe, my son._

Hadiden stared down at the Vallaslin on the back of his hands, his bound hands. He struggled to recall all that had led up to the point to have him captive, shemlan pointing swords at him as though he was a wild animal.

He had come to the conclave, to hide within the shadows and observe the decision made by the shemlan priest about the Mage and Templar war. He was supposed to learn then leave and return to the clan. Then... 

Then he couldn't remember. He had made it to the conclave and the next thing he knew he was running up a hill, being chased by spiders, and reaching out to a woman. He didn't know who the woman was or why he was being chased by spiders, but that's all he could remember. What had happened between those moments?

Hadiden turned his left hand over, looking at the palm. His hand hurt, feeling as though he had fire summoned constantly, but it wasn't hot enough to burn him. On his palm was a mark, a mark that was barely glowing green and ran along his middle life line. The elf knew that he didn't have that before he came to the conclave, yet it was on his hand. How had he gotten that mark? Was it caused by grabbing that woman's hand?

Without warning, the mark on Hadiden's hand flared, glowing bright green and sending hot sparks through his arm. Hadiden barely held back a scream, his whole left arm going numb with white hot pain, like fire had been injected into his veins and was burning him from the inside. The guards around him didn't move, didn't budge to check if he was all right. Hadiden barely even realized that the door had slammed open because of the pain in his whole arm.

When he did look up, he met eyes with two shemlan women, one with a sword at her side and the other with a hood over her head. The one with the sword walked around Hadiden, making him feel uncomfortable. Did these two know what happened? Would they release him? 

The tapping sound of the woman's boots made Hadiden feel small, smaller than he usually felt. One wrong move and he would be killed, he had no doubt of it.

"The Conclave is destroyed, the whole valley laid to waste. Divine Justinia, the Most Holy, is dead, along with all those who attended," the woman with the sword said, making her way slowly around Hadiden. Besides her look already intimidating him, what with the two scars and the death glare, her accent had the elf worried as to where he was. She didn't sound Orleisan or Fereldan. she sound Nevarren or Antivan. Had he been taken that far north from the Conclave? If he wasn't cuffed and chained to the floor he would have tried to escape to find out.

"All except you." The foreign woman was in front of Hadiden, her stare was death hungry, like she wanted him to bleed. Did she blame him?

"You, you think I did it?" Hadiden asked, pulling his shoulders in, trying to fold himself in. Avoid being touched. Don't hurt anyone. Don't let them know. 

The woman grabbed the cuff, pulling it up to make Hadiden look at his hand, the hand with the mark. As if on cue, the mark flared and made Hadiden wince. What was it?

"Explain _this!_ " She demanded, throwing his hand back down, possibly to avoid the green mark. Could he hurt someone because of it? Hadiden felt like screaming. How could this get any worse?

"I... can't," he said, trying to steady his breathing as he looked at the woman. She wanted his head on a pike, he knew it. She blamed him for the death of all those people, just like he blamed himself. 

"What do you mean you _can't-_ "

"Cassandra!" The other woman, the hooded one, stepped in, trying to calm the other. This one had an Orleisan accent, which didn't help settle the fear or anxiety in Hadiden's stomach. Was he in Orlais?

The Orleisan woman stepped forward, making the other, Cassandra, take a step back. "Do you remember what happened?" she said. "Anything at all?"

Hadiden looked between the two woman and swallowed. Would they believe him? Would they believe that all he remembered was waking up in a wet, rocky area and then suddenly being chased by creatures that looked like giant, twisted spiders? Would they believe he was saved by a woman, a glowing woman, who was reaching out to pull him through some kind of hole in the sky behind her? It was a low possibility that they would believe him and highly likely they would hang him for the death of all those at the Conclave.

Despite what he was warring with himself over, Hadiden decided he would tell them what he remembered. He thought, even if it seemed crazy, it was better to just be honest than to make something up.

"I remember running. I was running away from these creatures that looked like giant spiders but they had spikes and were gray. I ran up a hill or some kind of mountain and then there was a woman, and she was reaching out towards me and... that's all I remember." 

The hooded woman had nearly all her face covered but it wasn't covered enough to hide the shock or surprise that ran across her features. Hadiden didn't know if she believed his tale or if she thought he was crazy for telling such a story. "A woman?" She said, eyes wide. Did she believe him?

"Do you remember anything else? Do you remember who the woman was?" When Hadiden shook his head, the Orleisan woman looked towards Cassandra, staring at her as if they were going to say something.

Hadiden didn't know what came over him, possibly grief or sorrow, but he said, "all those people, dead." The elf felt the sting of tears forming in his eyes, the grief of all those lives lost because of him. If he hadn't been there, hadn't shown up to the Conclave, maybe all of the people would have lived, including the shemlan Divine. If he was back with the clan, safe among the trees and wild life, he wouldn't have killed so many people. It was his fault. 

"Leliana, go to the forward camp. I'll take him to the rift then meet you there," Cassandra said, ordering Leliana away. Before he could understand what the rift was, Cassandra was kneeling and taking the cuffs off, only to tie rope around Hadiden's wrist. He wasn't free yet and she had almost touched him. Hadiden had to remain calm now, had to keep his magic hidden. She couldn't know.

Cassandra lead him outside. The light of the sun blinded Hadiden for a moment, making him raise his hands to shield his eyes as he tried to adjust from the dark prison to the light world. Once he could see again, Hadiden felt like his whole body turn to stone.

In the sky was a swirling vortex of green mist. The clouds turned, changing between green and the misty gray of the sky. For some reason, there were chunks of mountains floating under the swirling hole, giant boulders making stone islands in the sky in the distance. This wasn't normal, Hadiden knew that. Not even his magic could have caused that, could it? He was weak, an untrained mage with barely enough power to heal himself or start a fire. There was no way he had the power to do that.

Cassandra pulled Hadiden out of his fearful thoughts, saying, "we call it the Breach. A tear in the Veil between our world and the Fade. It appeared after the explosion at the Conclave."

The Breach pulsed, shooting green lightning from its center, crashing to the earth. The mark on Hadiden's hand flared up, the feeling of lava in his veins burned and he fell to his knees, trying to pull his hand as close to himself as possible. The elf tried to bend over it, pressing his burning fist to his stomach as he grit his teeth, trying to fight through the pain. His whole arm hurt, his hand on fire. Every time the mark flared, it meant the Breach pulsed, sending Creators know what into the real world. 

"Every time the Breach expands, so does the mark on your hand. That mark is slowly killing you, but it is our only hope to having any chance of closing it." There was no sincerity in Cassandra's voice, only facts. She couldn't be worried for him, could she? It seemed she only wanted the thing in the sky gone.

Hadiden felt angry, like when his father suggested he bond. This woman didn't care about him living, only that the Breach was causing chaos. She didn't care he was hurt, she only wanted to figure out who caused the shemlan priest to die. Hadiden wanted to scream, wanted to cut himself free of the rope and run, run away from these problems. He wanted to, but knew better. Maybe his mark was connected, seeing how it harmed him every time it did something. Maybe he could fix it, but it wouldn't be for this woman or any other shemlan. 

Out of spite, Hadiden spat, "do you _really_ think I did this to myself now?" He was furious, his blood boiling. He couldn't tell if he was in pain because of the mark anymore or if he was just feeling his own rage multiplied due to the situation at hand. 

Cassandra shook her head, "I don't believe that but something did happen, and that mark was placed on your hand. But something has to be done and you are our only hope at the moment." For a moment, Hadiden thought she looked sincere, like she truly believe Hadiden could help. For an even smaller moment, Hadiden felt bad for the way he asked the question. She was scared, and probably many others, and the only lead they had was him and his mark. Maybe he should stay and not run at his first chance.

Hadiden sighed and pulled his shoulders in again, feeling small. He couldn't be guilty of causing the Breach, but maybe he had a hand in creating it. Maybe something had happened and he used his magic, making an explosion. It wouldn't explain how it opened a door into the Beyond, but it was all he could think of aiding in the explosion. He looked at Cassandra. "Okay."

Her eyes widened, surprised. Hadiden didn't blame her. It was stereotypical to think a Dalish elf wouldn't care to help. Normally he wouldn't want to help, but this was a rare case. This Breach also threatened his clan. "Then...?" She stared, waiting for Hadiden to finish her thought. He nodded and said, "I'll do what I can to stop that... thing." 

Without warning, Cassandra moved around Hadiden and grabbed him under his arms, lifting him up to his feet. Hadiden wanted to flinch away, to avoid being touched, but he felt weak and couldn't pull himself to it. He was too weak to be a danger right then. 

Once on his feet, though, Cassandra started walking and he followed. There were tents everywhere, people hiding in them, bandaging and trying to help the wounded. Hadiden's stomach and heart ached. These people were hurt, and even if they didn't care for him and probably hated him, he felt sympathy because he was at the center of their problems.

"The people of Haven have decided your guilt because they need it. The Conclave was Divine Justinia's, the Most Holy. It was our one way to truly end the war. Without it..." Cassandra trailed off. She wanted to say more, probably. She wasn't going to say more because she had to order two guards to open a door to a gated bridge. Once through the gates, shielded by the wooden doors, Cassandra turned to Hadiden to cut the tie. Hadiden rubbed his wrists and twisted them, trying to get them to pop and feel less strained. "I can promise a trail, but that is all," she said and turned, walking towards the other end of the bridge.

Hadiden tried to follow close beside her, watching as she held herself. Cassandra had to be a leader of some kind, because she kept her shoulders squared and tall, at least half a foot taller than Hadiden. The other guards stationed saluted her as she walked by and did as she ordered. He couldn't tell if it was out of fear or respect. When through the second gate, they had to truck up a snow covered hill, walking between burning carts and past a group of soldiers who shouted something about the Maker saving them. Hadiden felt for them because he was silently doing the same with the Creators. 

Once at the top of the hill, being at least a third of the way to a second bridge, the Breach exploded. Hadiden closed his hand, bringing it to his stomach again as he fell to his knees. He folded in on himself to try and stop the flaring pain of the mark. Everything hurt; his hand, his arm, all the way to his legs. Cassandra was right about the mark slowly killing him. 

Without word, she was in front of him again and trying to pull him off himself, trying to get Hadiden to at least sit up. This time, Hadiden flinched away from her hands. If questioned, he would blame the pain from the mark for making him weary of her touch. Yet, she didn't. Instead, she said, "just hanging in there a little longer, we're nearly there." 

Cassandra helped Hadiden up and he stepped away the minute he had his balance. Instead of their quick jog that they were doing, they walked toward the bridge to allow Hadiden time to regain himself.

"They say you fell out of a rift," Cassandra said. "We had thought the Temple of Sacred Ashes was laid to waste but when our soldiers got there, you just fell out of a rift and fell unconscious. They say that a woman was behind you. No one knows who she was." Hadiden looked up at Cassandra's profile. She looked worried, like her plan to bring him along was a terrible one. He didn't blame her, but she also seemed a little sad. Hadiden wondered how she knew the shemlan priest and why she seemed so important. All he knew was that she would have decided the end of the Mage Rebellion.

If things could have gone from bad to worse, it did when they got to the bridge. They had nearly crossed it, almost met with the soldiers at the other end, but the Breach decided against that. A blast of green lightning hit the bridge, just a few feet in front of Hadiden and Cassandra. It seemed that stone doesn't protect against Breach lightning because the bridge exploded and crumbled under the elf, causing him and Cassandra to tumble into a pile of stone blocks and soldier supplies. Hadiden had to rub his head as he got up, watching as Cassandra shouted something and charged at a demon. The elf scrambled to his feet and watched as the ground in front of him bubbled with black and green mist. Something bad was going to happen and he needed protection. His body was screaming magic but-

Behind him was a bow, which Hadiden thanked the Creators for. Before he could get an arrow notched, the demon appeared and Hadiden didn't know what to do. Cassandra was turned around, she couldn't see him if he just-

Quickly, Hadiden tried to concentrate on the ice and cold in the air and pushed it towards the demon, freezing it. The spell wouldn't last long, Hadiden wasn't good at freezing things, but it would last long enough for Hadiden to get a couple arrows to be able to fight. 

It wasn't even ten seconds before the demon thawed and was moving towards Hadiden. The elf felt a bit more confident with a bow in hand and was firing arrow after arrow at the demon, piercing the thin air as it pierced the demon. The creature was stronger than he thought, and Hadiden ran out of arrows. Luckily, the demon died when he stabbed the end of the bow through the demon. If he hadn't been trained as a hunter for the clan, Hadiden might have puked when he yanked the bow out of the thing and used the side of his pants to wipe the blood away. 

When he looked up, Hadiden seen that Cassandra had killed the other demon. Hadiden sighed and walked towards her, the bow in his hand but not at the ready. The fight was over, no need to be cautious around her.

Cassandra hadn't gotten the note that the fighting was over because she had her shield and sword drawn, protecting herself from Hadiden.

"Drop your weapon, now!" She demanded. Hadiden blinked and staggered back. Even without the bow, he was dangerous. He was a mage! He didn't want to admit that he was a mage, knowing that would make Cassandra more hostile, so instead, he gripped the bow tighter and said, "I need this to protect myself and you need to trust me." 

"Give me one good reason to."

"Because my life depends on it." Hadiden didn't break their eye contact. He knew he was making her angry. There was no doubt that she didn't like him and didn't like that he wasn't following her order. Hadiden need the weapon and needed her trust. She was the only one able to get him out of there alive, and she need to understand that she could trust him. 

That seemed to break through Cassandra's barrier because she sheathed her sword and stood up straight, sighing. "You are right, and I cannot possibly be able to protect you once we are in the valley," she said, adding "I should remember you came willingly." After that, she handed Hadiden a few health potions. "Here. It's dangerous and we cannot afford to be unprepared."

They jogged up the trail a bit before Hadiden asked, "where are your soldiers?"

Cassandra sighed behind him. "At the forward camp, I would expect, or at the rift. We're nearly there." 

Cassandra's nearly there meant two more fights, one in which Hadiden had to try and attack two demons with his bow. He had run out of arrows and started picking some off of dead bodies of soldiers and Templars. If he was back with the clan he would be able to go back whenever he ran out if arrows or make his own. Now he had to steal them because he didn't have more arrows. 

As they made their way up a set of snow covered stairs, Hadiden could hear fighting. The sound of iron clashing and the demonic grunts could be heard half way up the stairs. Cassandra heard it too because she shouted, "hurry! They're going to need our help!"

Hadiden nearly missed a step when she shouted. "Who?" He asked, making it to the top before Cassandra did. "You'll see," was all she said. 

The elf nearly fell off of a drop when the hill broke into a ruin of some kind of building. He had to quickly regain his balance to help in whatever fighting was happening. There were soldiers, of course, and a dwarf with no beard. He had some kind of crossbow and was pushing one of the three demons back. Hidden among the other soldiers was an elf; an elven apostate! The bald elf was attacking a demon with ice blasts. The third demon was about to hit the elf when Hadiden shot an arrow right at it, killing it. The elf looked right at Hadiden and, once the other two were dead, grabbed him by the wrist. Hadiden was confused as they rushed towards a rift, unable to even think of yanking his hand away. The rift was spewing green light from all around it. The bald elf forced Hadiden to raise his left hand, the marked hand, and shouted "quickly!" 

Out of reflex, Hadiden made his open hand turn into a fist and tried to yank back. 

Tried. 

His hand was burning as a green light came from the mark and shot at the rift, causing it to pulse madly. When the light from his hand felt weaker, Hadiden was able to close his hand and yanked it away. When he yanked his hand back, the rift closed and he stared at the elf, pulling his marked hand to his chest. Hadiden felt almost violated that this strange elf had touched him. 

Hadiden attempted a glare at the elf and looked at him. "What did you just do?" He demanded, keeping his hand close. The elf adjusted his sleeve then looked at Hadiden. "I did nothing," he said, his voice obviously wise, as though he held more secrets than the normal person. "It was all you." Hadiden blinked, relaxing a little and looked at the mark. It didn't hurt, it stung a little, but didn't hurt like when the Breach exploded and pulsed. "So I can help," Hadiden said, more to himself than anyone. 

It seemed that the dwarf had stayed because he added, "good to know. Just when I thought we were going to be ass deep in demon forever." Hadiden turned to look at the dwarf, confused as to why he didn't have a beard and why his chest was covered in so much hair. Dwarves didn't believe in the shemlan Maker, did they?

"Are you with the Chantry?" Hadiden asked, hesitating the question. He didn't know much about dwarves, but he was sure that they didn't believe in the Maker. The elf laughed, and Hadiden looked at him. "Is that a serious question?" The bald elf was smiling, but Hadiden didn't get what was funny. The dwarf laughed too and looked at his glove before looking at Hadiden. "Actually, I'm a prisoner here, just like you." The look he gave Cassandra seemed like they had a secret joke almost. Hadiden didn't want to know. 

"The name is Varric Tethras, at your service." The dwarf, Varric, was smiling and gave a staged bow. Hadiden smiled and nodded. Without hesitation he said, "that's a nice crossbow you have there." 

Varric glanced over his shoulder and sighed, as if admiring the device on his back. "Ahh, isn't she? Bianca is one of a kind." Hadiden had to fight back a laugh. Did he name the crossbow? Well, he could ask.

"You named your crossbow Bianca?" 

"Of course. And she will be great help in the valley." Varric said, smiling. Cassandra moved past Hadiden and walked right up to Varric. "Oh no. You will not be joining us in the valley-"

"Have you seen the valley lately, Seeker? It's demon infested and your soldiers are falling back. You need me." Varric shit eating grin didn't fade, only intensified when Cassandra sighed. It was almost like a disgusted sigh. 

Hadiden almost laughed until the other elf spoke. "My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see that you still live." Hadiden turned to him, to see him smiling. Solas reminded Hadiden of one of the hunters in the clan. Tavel and him had gone into a village to trade for some supplies. Tavel always greeted the shemlan with smiles and eloquent manners. Hadiden usually stayed quiet. 

"He means," Varric said, "I kept that mark from killing you while you slept."

Hadiden's eyes widened as her looked at Solas. "You know about the mark?"

Solas smiled and nodded. Cassandra added, "Solas is an elven apostate."

"Actually, all mages are apostates now, but yes, I know about the mark and theorized what it would be able to do. In part, I came to try and offer whatever aid would be necessary to help close the Breach," Solas said with a matter of fact tone. He was a mage and kept Hadiden alive. Could he know?

"Thats a commendable attitude, Solas." Hadiden said. Solas nodded. "Only the sensible one, which we seem to be lacking here recently."

Before Hadiden could ask anymore questions about the mark and what Solas knew, Solas was looking at Cassandra. "Seeker, I must inform you that, while your prisoner is not a mage, there is no way he caused the explosion. In fact, I have a hard time believing that any mage would have the power to create such an explosion."

Cassandra sighed. "Understood. We should press forward to the camp then and see if Leliana made it there safely." Without any other words, Cassandra and Solas made their way over a broken wood wall, leaving Varric and Hadiden alone. Varric looked up at Hadiden. "Well," he said. "Bianca is excited."

 

The way to the forward camp involved more demons, Solas pestering about the Dalish, and another rift that had to be closed. By the time the group found Leliana, Hadiden just wanted to take a nap. Closing rifts was making him really tired.

Of course, the excitement of the day didn't end because Leliana was arguing with a man in Chantry robes. Hadiden didn't pay attention until he shouted, "and there's the criminal who should be chained and taken to the capital for trail!" Hadiden tried to listen, Cassandra saying something about him closing rifts and the man saying something about that that was a decision for the new Divine. Hadiden nearly screamed but kept his cool.

"Isn't closing the Breach the more pressing matter?" Hadiden asked, not understanding why the two were running in circles when the sky was broken open with demons falling out of it. 

"You are the one who brought it upon us! This is _your_ doing!" The Chantry man shouted, obviously outraged by Hadiden's existence. 

Again, he drowned out the arguing of Cassandra, Leliana, and the man. They were arguing over which way to go; through the mountain pass or charge with the soldiers. As if they didn't have enough voices, Cassandra turned to Hadiden and said, "what do you think?" As she asked her question, Hadiden felt the mark flare and burn. It didn't last long, not like the other two times, but it still hurt and caused everyone to stare at him. Hadiden looked right at Cassandra when the mark stopped hurting. 

Hadiden wanted to jump over the side of the bridge. First he was a prisoner who would only get a trail to being the one making the decisions. Isn't that Cassandra's job as the leader? "Now you're asking for _my_ opinion?" Hadiden raised an eyebrow. 

Solas decided he wanted in on the argument and said, "you have the mark." Cassandra nodded and said, "and you are the one we must keep alive."

The elf sighed and weighed his options. Going through with the soldiers would take awhile. They would need to find their way to them and help fight off whatever demons were there. It would take a little longer, but they would be at the Breach with more man power. If they took the mountain pass, they would be able to locate the missing scouts and be able to get to the Breach quicker. If they got to the Breach quicker, they might be able to save more people than to just charge.

"Take the mountain pass. Work together; we all know what's at stack," Hadiden said, straightening himself to stand taller. He was giving orders, much like he did when he went hunting with someone else. He had to appear a good leader, especially now since he could be tried and killed right after the Breach was closed.

Cassandra gave a final word to Leliana, and the small group began their struggled walk up to the mountain pass. Hadiden prayed to the Creators for help because he really needed it.

 

If Hadiden had been told he would save some scouts and given respect yesterday, he would have called someone mad. If they added that he would see a shemlan temple in ruins with stoned bodies screaming all around him, he would wonder if they had some sickness. If they even finished with that he would have to close a giant hole in the Veil, Hadiden might have just killed them for being crazy. He didn't know if he was crazy and dreaming or if any of it was real.

The Temple of Sacred Ashes was in total ruins, and they had to find a way down so Hadiden could get close to the Breach. The party barely stepped foot when a daunting voice echoes through the remains of the holy place:

_Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice._

Hadiden didn't recognize the voice, and Cassandra nearly demanded it to answer her. Solas explained that it was possibly a memory of what happened, and the Breach was pouring in the memories into the real world. 

The next surprise was the red, glowing rock. Apparently it was red lyrium, which made Varric angry. Cassandra knew about it too, it seemed, because Varric addressed her specifically about it. He warned them not to even touch it.

_Keep the sacrifice still._

_Someone, help me!_

A new voice, a woman's voice, echoed after the strange dark one. The voice belonged to the Divine because Cassandra shouted, "that was Divine Justinia's voice! What happened?" No one answered. No one knew.

When they reached the bottom, close enough for Hadiden to close the Breach, the center pulsed, but instead of spewing out demons, the ruined temple faded slightly, the temperature turning colder than before. 

_What's going on here?_

Hadiden felt his blood go cold. His voice reached every corner of the temple. Before he knew it, Cassandra was beside him, looking angry. "That was your voice! What happened here?"

Hadiden shook his head and stepped back. "I don't remember," he said, lining the words with confidence and truth. He had no memories of what happened.

Before them was a black cloud, made to look like a monster with red eyes. In front of him was a woman in Chantry robes; the Divine. Again, the vision repeated 

_Bring forth the sacrifice._

_Some one, help me!_

_What's going on here?_

_Run while you can, warn them!_

_We have an intruder. Slay the elf._

The vision and figures disappeared. Hadiden felt cold, his stomach doing turns. He had seen himself, the Divine, and some monster in the vision. He was part of the Breach opening. It was proof. Cassandra seemed to sense that too, even if she didn't ask what happened again.

"Solas," she said. "Was the vision real? What did we see?"

Solas grabbed his staff and looked at the Breach before looking at the Seeker. "Echoes of memories of what once was bleeds here," he said, as if that explained what the party had seen. Instead of adding to that statement, Solas said, "the Breach is not closed but it is sealed off. I suspect that if we open it that we can reseal it properly." 

"That would mean demons. Everyone stand ready!" Cassandra shouted, getting Leliana to get her scouts positioned. Solas looked at Hadiden before telling him to do as he did with the rifts to open the Breach, fight the demons that came out, then close the Breach.

It was a terrible plan, it seemed. Hadiden swore to never let Solas make plans again because a Pride demon pushed through the Breach and they spent at least ten minutes fighting the beast. 

The last thing Hadiden could remember was doing as he did with the rifts, closing the Breach, and being knocked out as the Breach exploded and sealed up.


	5. Inquisition

Hadiden woke with a start, sitting directly up, breathing hard and in a cold sweat. The last thing that he could remember was a pride demon coming out of a hole between the Beyond and the real world, attacking and killing it, then closing the hole until it exploded. Hadiden swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to steady himself. It had to be a dream. The whole hole in the sky and the demon and the mark on his hand was all a bad dream. It was probably Desire's blasted way of scaring Hadiden into taking an offer. Next time he saw the demon, Hadiden promised to personally kick his ass. 

Slowly, it sank in that what Hadiden thought he dreamt was real. He was in a cabin, sitting on a neat bed with a red, blue, and yellow blanket. If he wasn't gripping the blanket to hold onto something real, he would have realized that the blanket was made of finer fabric, possibly silk or velveteen. The cabin had a warm glow to it, like a summer sunset. Hadiden glanced around to see that the hearth had a burning fire in it. Hadiden hoped that the fire had been there before he had woken because he didn't want to be the cause of the fire. 

A crashing sound brought the elf from his distracted thoughts and to look where the sound came from. He was lucky that the noise didn't startle him enough to make him raise a hand, firing a fireball or freezing the source. Instead, Hadiden stared at an elven woman for a second before she fell to her knees, bowing. Hadiden swung his legs around to the side of the bed, about to get up when the woman spoke.

"I didn't realize you were awake, my lord! If I had known... my apologies!"

Hadiden stared, watching as she got up. She called him _lord_? He couldn't be considered a lord. There was no way! He was an elf, a hunter, and a hidden mage. To raise him to a lord status was ridiculous!

"Don't worry about it," he said, trying to hide how tired he was. He had only just woke up. "I just woke up. Wh-"

"You're back in Haven, my lord. The Breach is stable and so is the mark on your hand, but it's still in the sky. That's what they say at least." The elven woman stuttered and tripped over some words, as though she was nervous to be around Hadiden. If she only knew.

"Lady Cassandra wanted to know when you woke. At once, she said." The woman started to make for the door. Hadiden himself started to get up, more than just confused. Cassandra wanted to see him? "Where is she?" He asked. The other elf looked at him then the door. "She's in the Chantry. At once she said!" And with that, the woman left, leaving Hadiden alone.

The Dalish stared at the door. He lived through the Breach being closed, barely lived through it. Now he was in a place called Haven and Cassandra was being told that he was awake. Even if he wanted to escape, find a way out of Haven and back to clan, he couldn't without Cassandra sending soldiers to track and bring him back. Plus, even _if_ he could get away, he had no clue how far Haven was from the Free Marches and how to find his clan. All in all, he was trapped. 

Hadiden spotted his armor on a table beside a note. After quickly changing into the gear, struggling with the boots for about three minutes (Hadiden only wore them because of the snow. If he had his choice, he wouldn't be wearing shoes), he picked up the note.

All that he prided himself for for being Dalish, Hadiden couldn't read. Well, not well at least. His father had taught him how to write his name and the common alphabet, but other than that, Hadiden didn't really know how to read. He decided to fold the note and tuck it away in his pocket, saving it for another time. 

Lastly, he checked the box the girl had dropped. Inside was elfroot and blood lotus. Hadiden quickly stuffed those into his side pouch. It was almost instinct, second nature at most, to keep roots and herbs with him. After years of hunting, scrapping himself in the forest, eflroot and blood lotus were mandatory to keep. And if the healing herbs didn't work to heal a wound, he always had magic...

Before Hadiden could dwell on his magic, he made for the door and opened it, being met with a bright sun and a guard. The soldier had an arm across his chest, bowing his head. It took a moment before Hadiden realized that he was bowing to _him_. Hadiden walked around him, feeling awkward. A day ago, if he had woken and walked out of a hut, a guard would have had him chained and taken to be executed by Cassandra. Now, one was bowing to him! Hadiden's head started to spin from the confusion. Shemlan were so strange. 

Hadiden had no idea where the Chantry was, but could guess since multiple shemlan were bowing and blocking different ways around Haven. The elf had to find his way, walking up a set of snow covered stairs before he seen the huge religious building. As he made towards the building, ignoring all those who were bowing to him, he could see the sun burst symbol of the Chantry.

_His forehead was branded with the Chantry symbol, a red sun._

A chill ran up Hadiden's spine, and it wasn't from the cold. The symbol on the building was the symbol he would have burned onto his forehead if they found out, if anyone found out that he was a mage. He would be cut off from the Beyond, forced to live without feelings, forget everything he knew, and live with a brand from the Shemlan Maker. While having his curse under control, he didn't want to forget how to feel. His emotions made him dangerous, but he wouldn't share the fate of his uncle. He wouldn't be tranquil. He'd hide his magic forever.

Hadiden pushed open the giant wooden doors of the Chantry, feeling a bit light headed from it all. He'd been in buildings before, but the size of the Chantry made him feel smaller than ever; he felt smaller than a bug in a forest of towering trees. 

The elf slowly walked in, hearing the doors close behind him. He tried to look, take in everything; the high wooden beams above head, the barrels with candles burning, old tomes stacked, dust collecting all around. Hadiden wondered how long this Chantry had been there and how long people had used it. With all the dust, the old carvings, he wondered if it had been centuries before people decided to take care of it. There had to be people here before Cassandra and her soldiers, but if the Chantry looked as old as it seemed, they must have taken bad care of it. Hadiden wanted to find out and learn the secrets of the place. He mostly wanted to find hiding spots, places to hide in case of an accident with his magic. The shemlan before them didn't matter that much, just where they kept their dirty secrets was fascinating to the elf.

As Hadiden made his way through the Chantry, he heard voices. No, not voices like he was crazy, but the voices of Cassandra and the Chantry man from the bridge.

_He should be taken to Val Royeaux for trail!_

_I do not believe he is guilty._

_That is not for you to decide! That should be for the one who is appointed the next Divine!_

Hadiden stood outside the door, listening. The Chantry man called Cassandra a thug. Hadiden wanted to laugh, because it wasn't a false statement, but he figured that Cassandra could make the man into ashes if she truly wanted to.

Hadiden opened the door, feeling the tips of his ears heat up as Cassandra, Leliana, and the Chantry man all stared at him. In the room, there were two Templars. Hadiden felt his stomach stir. Something bad could happen-

"Chain him! I want him prepared for travel to the Capital!"

Hadiden felt his body go cold, rigged. He was ready to use his curse, use it to escape. He had to get out of there-

"Ignore that. You are dismissed," Cassandra said, rolling her eyes. It took a moment before Hadiden moved forward, allowing the Templars to leave. She just saved his life. This woman just kept helping him. 

"You walk a dangerous path, Seeker." The Chantry man had his arms crossed, glaring at Hadiden. Hadiden looked between the man and Cassandra, waiting for her to punch him. He didn't know why he expected her to punch him, but considering the fact that he was questioning her and calling her names, he figured the robed man deserved a hit. 

"I do what I must, Chancellor." Cassandra looked at Hadiden, about to say something to him when the Chancellor spoke again.

"Seeker, I insist. The prisoner _must_ be taken to the Captail to be tried by the new Divine!" 

Hadiden could see that Cassandra was about to say something but instead, he spoke up, annoyed. "I did everything that I could to close the Breach. It nearly killed me! Yet you still claim that I'm the reason behind what happened to the Divine and the Temple?" He had his fists balled, digging his fingers into his palms. _Keep calm, Hadiden. Don't do anything brash._

"Yet, conveniently, you live! It may as well be part of your plan!" The Chancellor said, his face going red. He was probably frustrated with no one listening to him about killing the elf. Hadiden was grateful for that.

"He did all that we asked of him. More than others. More," Cassandra said, looking at the Chancellor. "Than you did, Chancellor Roderick."

The Chancellor looked offended, as if Cassandra said that the shemlan Maker did not favor him. "Am _I_ a suspect?"

Leliana stepped in for the first time in the argument. "You, and many others."

"But not the prisoner?" Roderick exclaimed, bewildered that he was a suspect rather than the elf. Hadiden felt a bit of pride. They believed he was innocent.

"I do not think he caused the explosion," Cassandra said.

"You think I'm innocent?" Hadiden asked, looking between Roderick and Cassandra, leaving his gaze on her. Her features didn't look like she wanted to kill him anymore; she looked angry, probably at Roderick, but when her eyes met Hadiden's, she soften her gaze, sighing.

"I believe that you were sent to help us. I do not believe you to be the cause of the Breach."

Hadiden felt his heart swell a bit. He wasn't a suspect of the explosion. He was innocent in the eyes of the Seeker. Thedas might not believe he was innocent yet, but it wouldn't be long before everyone stopped blaming him. He would be able to walk around without people staring, giving him looks of fear and murder. He would possibly be able to return to his clan.

The elf hadn't heard the rest of the argument, an argument that involved Cassandra shouting at Roderick and the Chancellor trying to one up the Seeker. He was brought back to the real world when Cassandra slammed a book onto the table.

"Do you know what this is, Chancellor? This is a rite, written by the Divine herself." Cassandra was poking the book, as if to emphasize its importance. 

"From this point on," Cassandra said. "I here by reinstate the Inquisition."

If Hadiden knew what that meant, he might have been impressed by the Inquisition. For now, he didn't know what that was or what that meant, what those words truly held. All he knew is that the Chancellor barked something to Cassandra (did he called her a Chantry thug again?), and stormed out the door. Hadiden watched him go then looked at the two women.

Cassandra was staring at the book, Leliana moving to stand beside her. Hadiden moved a little closer. It wasn't like he could read what was in the book if it was opened. All he could see was a symbol on the tome; a sword going through an eye with a sun burst behind it. 

"A hand written rite from the Divine; one to bring peace and to restore order," Leliana said, looking at Cassandra. "We are not ready. We don't have the numbers or the support."

Cassandra sighed, her hand just barely gracing the top of the book. Hadiden was curious as to what the rite actually said. What was the Divine's definition of peace? He hoped it involved his freedom. 

"What other choice do we have, Leliana? We must do something." Cassandra turned to Hadiden. "I do insist that you stay since it is your mark that will allow us to close the Breach."

Hadiden looked into Cassandra's eyes. She didn't want him to be apart of this   
Inquisition because they were friends; she wanted him to join because of the blighted mark on his hand. The elf took a moment to look at the mark, following it as it traced his life line. The slight green glow stopped bothering the man and it no longer hurt like it did before. It still hurt, but it wasn't sending flares of white hot sparks through his arm, making him unable to do anything. The line glowing green was why Cassandra wanted him there.

"And," Hadiden started, "I refused to stay?"

"You are free to go." Leliana almost glared at him. Hadiden wanted to shrink up. "But we cannot protect you beyond the Inquisition. We do not know what people would do to you if you were to leave now."

Cassandra nodded. "We can keep you safe until we find out how the Breach was opened and who killed the Divine."

Hadiden weighed the idea. He could stay, be protected from those who would hunt him, and keep his clan safe. But he would have to keep his magic hidden, which would be near impossible. Hadiden would have to learn to keep all emotions away from himself, to not let his emotions rule himself as he did with the clan. If he stayed, he would need to be as distant as possible.

Hadiden wanted to ask if this would start civil war, but they were already at one. The mages and Templars were already fighting, causing problems for everyone over Thedas. If they could stop the war, stop the fighting, then the clan would be safe. The clan would be able to hunt, to survive the winter, and if Hadiden could leave the Inquisition, he could continue to keep them safe again.

With a deep sigh, Hadiden nodded. "All right. I'll stay and help." 

Both the women looked shocked but nodded. Cassandra told Leliana to find someone called the Commander. When she left, Cassandra looked at Hadiden. "Come with me." The elf nodded and quickly followed behind Cassandra.

"Where are we going?" Walking out of the dark Chantry and into the light of Haven caused Hadiden to go blind for a moment. For a moment, he lost Cassandra. She was walking down the steps that he had walked up. The elf nearly slipped when he tried to run and catch up, seeing Varric out of the corner of his eye before actually falling into step with the Seeker. 

"If you are to be a part of this, we must get you equipped with new armor." She glanced down at him. Hadiden blinked. What was wrong with his scouting armor? "Why do I need new armor? Is something wrong with what I have?"

Cassandra snorted. Did he make her laugh? "It does not protect you. We need you to be well guarded and have proper defense. And your equipment... is damaged."

Hadiden furrowed his eyebrows. His armor was in perfect condition! Maybe there was a hole or two that he had stitched up and there was a couple blood stains, but it was good armor. He had worn it hunting in the winter last year. It was steady armor!

But the Seeker disagreed and apparently had the blacksmith make new armor. The blacksmith ushered Hadiden into a cabin and told him to change, quickly, so that he could modify the armor if it needed it. Hadiden was quick to change into the new leggings, which actually fit better than the ones he had one. The undershirt and over shirt fit to Hadiden's body, and the jacket was snug. The inside was lined with velveteen and the outside was made from nug skin. Hadiden noticed that the jacket only covered his shoulders, leaving his arms exposed. Luckily, the over shirt was long and reached his wrists. The jacket itself reached near the floor, stopping at his ankles. The new boots were warm and comfortable, almost as if he wasn't wearing shoes. Hadiden wanted to just take them off, but left them on and then slipped on his old pair of hunting gloves. Dread Wolf take them if they tried to make Hadiden part with his gloves.

When he walked out, running a hand through his messy hair, the blacksmith asked how the armor fit. Hadiden told him that all of it fit well, and the smith told the elf that his old armor would be taken to his quarters. The elf was about to say he could take them there but honestly had no clue as to where his quarters were at.

The blacksmith told Hadiden that the Seeker wanted him to meet her, Leliana, the Ambassador, and the Commander at the Chantry. Hadiden nodded and made his way to the Chantry, trying to keep his head up. If he was to be a part of this Inquisition, he had to make sure he looked powerful. If he were to control his magic, he had to be feared so that people stayed away. He needed to radiate power.

When at the Chantry, Hadiden could only guess that the man hammering a piece of paper to the giant wooden doors was the Commander. The elf walked towards him, his head tilting as he watched the blonde shemlan hammering. Hadiden wished he knew what the paper said, but figured it had to do with the Inquisition since it had the same symbol as the rite had. Once finished, the Commander turned and noticed the elf for the first time. His eyes narrowed, and Hadiden felt the tips of his ears heat up. Something didn't feel right.

Nothing was said. The Commander just turned and held out a hand, gesturing for Hadiden to follow. The Dalish did so and stood beside the shemlan when he stopped, over looking a set of snow covered stairs. To Hadiden's left was Leliana and a woman in a deep blue and shining gold dress. Her dark skin was a huge contrast against the snow, but Hadiden found her beautiful. She didn't glance his way, but for at least a minute, Hadiden couldn't stop staring. 

Her gold necklace reflected the sun into Hadiden's eyes, causing him to look away. Once his sight returned to him, Hadiden could see Cassandra making her way up the set of stairs in front of them. Hadiden looked to his sides and watched as the Commander stood straight with his arms at his sides, Leliana with her arms behind her back. The elf decided to hold his head up, fold his arms behind his back, and wait for what was to come. When Cassandra stood right beside him, only inches from his left side, dread settled in Hadiden's stomach. This felt wrong. The feeling only intensified after Cassandra gave a speech to Haven then turned to the Chantry. Hadiden, Leliana, the Ambassador and the Commander followed her inside. 

 

The Commander had a name. Cullen, apparently. He had been a Templar, but he now commanded the soldiers. The Ambassador was Josephine Montilyet. She knew a Dalish greeting, which made Hadiden like her more, but seemed flustered when he asked if she knew more. Leliana had a job; she was the spy master. Cassandra had no other job than being a Seeker. 

The meeting they had was circular. Hadiden tried to listen, he did, but he was simply confused. Some people were calling him the _Herald of Andraste_ No one wanted to help close the Breach? Cullen believed Templars could weaken it. Josephine and Leliana wanted to get the mages. Cassandra wanted to make a decision. The suggestion of seeking out a Mother in the Hinderlands was placed on the table, and Hadiden jumped at that. He would have started screaming sooner or later if he didn't get out. The Hinderlands sounded like a forest or somewhere with trees. The elf really needed out of Haven. 

With the decision made, the meeting came to an end. Leliana said she would send forward scouts to make sure the roads were clear for the Herald of Andraste. Cassandra said she was going to inform Solas and Varric about the plans to leave in a week. Hadiden was told he could explore Haven or return to his quarters. 

At first, Hadiden wandered and helped some people in Haven. He went hunting for notes, collected some iron, and harvested eflroot. Mostly he did this because he would do this with the clan; he would help when he wasn't hunting. Shemlan seemed surprised that an elf wanted to help. After the seventeenth hesitated thank you, Hadiden decided to talk with Varric. 

Varric had some stories to tell; Hadiden asked about the red lyrium. Varric told a quick version of that he and someone named Hawke found an idol made of it, his brother sold it, his brother went crazy and that the Knight-Commander turned to stone because of it. He didn't want to talk of the rest. Hadiden learned he was Kirkwall and asked about it (what was the Circle like? How were the elves treated? A Dalish _mage_ was in the Alienage?). He asked about Varric's friends (You knew a Tevinter slave? A pirate stole a book from the Qunari and Hawke fought him? _Hawke was involved with the glowing elf from Tevinter?_ So the mage whom started the rebel was friends with you?). He told Hadiden of his books, laughing when Hadiden said he couldn't read and said that that reminded him of Broody. Hadiden wondered who Broody was. The elf tried to ask about Bianca but Varric wouldn't tell the story. He made a promise to never tell it. Hadiden nodded and understood. 

Hadiden decided to find his quarters, tired of the day. It had been a long day, full of decisions and confusion. It was a lot to take in for someone whom was only a prisoner hours ago. 

His quarters were nicer than what he figured; a cabin with a heated fire, a bed with a colored blanket, a single table with two chairs, and a book shelf with books. Hadiden smiled. He couldn't even read.

The elf sat on his bed, yanking his boots off and setting the near the fire. Next, he shed his armor, leaving his leggings on. Hadiden found his old armor and grabbed his old shirt, slipping on his green over shirt. The shirt smelled of wet dirt and pine, the smell of his clan. It reminded Hadiden of home, which brought tears to his eyes. He hoped his parents and clan was safe. 

"Herald?" The question, as simple as it was, was followed by knocking. Hadiden was pulled from reminiscing in the thoughts if his clan. Slowly, the elf got up from his bed and went to the door, coming face to face with the apostate mage, Solas. Hadiden blinked, trying to piece together why the other elf was here, but moved and opened the door more. "Oh, Solas," he said. "Uh, come in. Was there something you needed? Are you here about the mark?" He was here to see about the mark, wasn't he?

The bald elf moved into the room. Hadiden closed the door once the other elf was in. Even though he didn't bare the mark of the Dalish, Hadiden felt some kinship to him. They were elves of course. 

"I came with a question, if you do not mind, Herald." Solas stood in front of the fire, his arms behind his back. Hadiden went to sit on his bed, crossing his legs. 

"Of course. And there's no need to address me as Herald. You may call me by my first name." Hadiden watched the other carefully. He was staring at the flames, just watching them. Hadiden did the same thing when he thought, watching patterns and shapes form in the fire. When Solas looked up and at him, Hadiden felt like a child, like he would when his father looked at him when he was younger.

"As you wish, Hadiden," Solas said. "When the Seeker found you in the Valley, brought you to Haven unconscious, you were equipped with nothing but a bow. The Seeker took those, which you should ask for since she still has them put away. But my question is to why you would need a bow." 

Hadiden's chest felt tight. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't...

"What are you suggestion, Solas?"

"It is not uncommon to avoid answering this question. I am asking as to why a mage needs a bow when he has the power of the Fade running through him." Solas stared at Hadiden, waiting. 

Hadiden felt cold, drained, everything in his body leaving him. His blood went cold and solid. His brain stopped and heart skipped eight beats. Solas knew. He knew. How did he know? Panic was racing though Hadiden, setting his nerves on fire. He wanted to jump, wanted to run. Everything in his body was screaming to stay but also screamed to run away. Hadiden had no clue how this had happened.

Hadiden couldn't make his vocal cords work. Everything was against him. The elf barely managed out, "how do you know?" It was a whisper, strained, barely even a sound. He was thankful for the fact that Solas could hear him.

"I am a mage, as you are, and able to wander the Fade freely. As I was searching for answers for closing the Breach, I stumbled upon the most interesting thing." He stopped, pausing. What had he seen? 

"I was walking and stumbled into a forest, one I wandered before. I figured I had found a memory from the Fade that was in Kirkwall that may give an answer to the Breach. Instead, I found a blonde elf, hair looking like a mess of leaves, talking to a desire demon. I watched, watching their interactions. The elf was looking at a fire as the demon laughed. I remember the demon calling the elf a hidden mage. Once I woke up, I realized that the elf I had seen was you. When we met, I understood that the demon quite literally meant you were a hidden mage. You were using a bow. I was perplexed about you."

Hadiden was caught because Solas was a mage, able to guide through the Beyond. He had seen Hadiden talking with Desire. The Dalish tried to remember the conversation the two had had. The memory wasn't there.

"Why," Hadiden started. He could barely get the words out. "Why did you lie to Cassandra?"

Solas looked to the bookshelf, considering the question. Solas had every reason to tell Cassandra, should have told her, but didn't. 

"I did not tell the Seeker because of the confusion. You are a mage yet use the weapon of one of your Dalish hunters. You could be powerful, yet you stick to a basic weapon. I wanted to know why you keep your gift hidden."

The use of gift in reference to his magic broke Hadiden. The Dalish lost his willpower to hold back the tears before explaining everything; telling of his uncle, how his father wanted him to be safe and stay with the clan. How Hadiden feared leaving, feared himself for the curse. Hadiden told that the curse of his magic caused him to fear everything, that he may hurt his family, his clan, himself. He didn't want to be separated from his life, from everything he knew. He told Solas the fears of his magic, explaining why he kept it hidden. The other elf only nodded until Hadiden was finished. When the Dalish wiped his tears away, regaining himself, Solas turned to him again.

"I see." Solas started walking to the door before stopping, his hand resting on the handle.

"Do not fear. If it is a secret you wish to keep, you have nothing to fear of it getting out. I understand the importance of secrets. This is safe with me."

With that, the other elf left, leaving Hadiden alone. The Dalish stared at the door, feeling drained.

Everything was out, in the open. Solas knew everything. Hadiden had to trust that his secret wouldn't get out, wouldn't find Cassandra, and that he would get through the Breach without anyone else finding out. 

For a moment, Hadiden considered not going home when the Breach was closed. He didn't need to stay with them to keep them safe. He could stay away and they would stay safe.

For the first time since arriving in Haven, Hadiden felt truly alone, numb, and lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have failed to mention that in a week I ship off to basic training, meaning that this story will be on hold for two months. I'm going to try and update until then, but this isn't going to be discontinued. I just thought id give a heads up because i really enjoy this story and want to make sure that no one gives up on reading it since ill be gone for awhile.


	6. Advancement of the Inquisition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back from my Basic Combat Training, officially a soldier and what not. But what this means is I can work on this story again.  
> So I might be able to get to Hadiden meeting Dorian sooner or later, which should be fun!

"Herald of Andraste!"

The Hinderlands was exactly where Hadiden wanted to be. It wasn't as cold as Haven, still cold from the coming winter, but the trees still bore life. It was similar to some of the forests in the Free Marches. It was like home, almost. The elf just wanted to run from the Inquisition, to just go and explore the lands before him. 

But Hadiden withheld from running off. Instead, he looked down at one of Leliana's scouts. She was a dwarf, with chestnut hair tied into a complicated braid. Her face was adorned with more freckles than Hadiden could count (which was a lot, because Hadiden knew how to count pretty high. He just was unable to read). Her smile was soft and her cheeks turned a pale rose color. Her eyes read surprise. Hadiden watched her eyes to see that she must have been looking at his Vallaslin, his ruffled hair, his face. Was she looking for something on his face to show he was different, that he was the Herald?

Whatever she was looking for, she found it possibly because she continued to talk. 

"We've... heard the rumors. It's strange that a Dalish elf would be worried about what happens to anyone beside their own." She crossed her arms behind her back. Hadiden was afraid that she could snap his neck if she wanted to. And she wasn't wrong about caring for the shemlan of Thedas, but he didn't voice his opinion on helping.

Hadiden shrugged and the scout continued. 

"My name is Scout Harding. I grew up in these parts and know just about all there is to know about the Hinderlands."

Varric snorted. Hadiden looked behind him to see the dwarf smiling. Considering that the hike to the Hinderlands from Haven was filled with his story telling and jokes, this would be another moment of Varric's jokes.

"Harding, huh? Tell me, have you ever been to Kirkwall's Hightown?" 

Hadiden rolled his eyes, only guessing where this joke could go. Varric had told him about one of his most famous stories.

Harding didn't know where the joke was going because she said, "no? I can't say that I have been to Hightown. Why?"

"Because you'd be Harding in Hightown- Oh never mind." Varric didn't even finish the joke before Hadiden snickered and Cassandra made a disgusted sigh. She seemed to do that a lot around Varric. It was comedic to Hadiden.

"As you were saying, Scout Harding. You know this area well?" Hadiden asked, trying to get the conversation back on track. The sooner things were finished here, the sooner he could go exploring. Harding seemed to appreciate the question.

"Right! I grew up here in the Hinderlands, so I know just about everything. Horsemaster Dennet is just west of here. I grew up knowing him, and knowing of his horses. His horses are the best in all of Fereldan. Because of the Mage Rebellion, we haven't heard from him. I'm worried of what happened..." Harding was quiet for a moment before saying, "The Inquisition could use his horses if we can get to him."

Hadiden nodded. "Understood. Is there anything else I should know about?"

Harding looked grave at that. "The Hinderlands is the center of the Mage Rebellion. Most of the Crossroads has been badly damaged due to the fighting. A lot of refugees out of Redcliffe have been there, suffering. If the Inquisition could, I would recommend helping the people there. Also, Mother Giselle is at the Crossroads. She's the Mother who asked to speak with you, Herald." 

Before Hadiden could say anything, Scout Harding smiled. "Andraste guide you, Herald. You're going to need it out here." 

 

A cult, Templars, Mages, a scout trying to get into a mage's pants, and about five rifts, and the group had to stop for the night. They decided to make camp near a lake, not too far from the Crossroads. In the morning, they agreed to go straight to the Crossroads, to speak with Mother Giselle, and to help the refugees.

The night was cold, but not as cold as Haven. Hadiden had agreed to share a tent with Varric since Cassandra refused to share one with him, and Hadiden wasn't up to sharing with Solas. Not after what happened in Haven. 

Hadiden didn't go into his tent though. He wasn't up for sleep quite yet. He was out of Haven, doing some good now, and all he had to worry about was his magic. His clan was safe, avoiding mage and Templar territory. They were probably hunting, preparing for the winter. His parents weren't worried about his safety anymore. Hadiden wondered if he could get word sent to the clan to be sure they were safe. 

"I see you can't sleep, Hadi." 

Hadiden turned, looking to see Varric coming out of their tent. Hadiden could guess that he had been asleep for about an hour, but couldn't guess why he was awake now. Dwarves don't have nightmares. Maybe he couldn't sleep? And did he call him Hadi?

The dwarf in question sat down beside Hadiden, looking at the fire before looking up. Hadiden glanced at how far Varric was from him; at least a foot. A safe distance. 

"I'm not very tired at the moment. And did you just call me _Hadi_ ?" Hadiden smiled as Varric laughed. 

"I did. I usually have a nickname saved up for everyone. But that isn't important," Varric said. Hadiden looked at him before looking up at the sky. What was important anyways? "How are you holding up? I mean, you were the most wanted criminal in all of Thedas and now... well, now you're helping lead an army of the faithful who believe you to be sent by the Maker."

Hadiden laughed. The way Varric described it, it made the elf sound crazy. Maybe he was crazy.

"Most of it doesn't bother me," he started. "I can't keep up with it, to be honest, but I'm just curious as to how long I was a wanted criminal. It must have been awhile if Thedas learned I was suspect of... of..." 

Hadiden fell quiet. He was suspected of killing the Divine still. That was not going to leave him until they figured out who was truly behind it. And before they could even begin to guess who was behind the death of the Most Holy, they had to close the Breach. Hadiden couldn't even close the Breach unless they had mages or Templars on the Inquisition's side. And neither group would work with the Inquisition because they believed that Hadiden had killed the Divine. The circle was never ending now. Hadiden was the center of the problem.

The elf was quiet. Much quieter than he realized, because Varric said, "I understand. Well, mostly. While the Breach was still a problem, you were out for five days, I think. After you closed that Blighted thing, you were asleep for three. Everyone figured you caught some Fade sickness and you were dying from it since you were in cold sweats, shaking, and muttering nonsense. The second day wasn't better; you just stopped muttering. The third day had us worried since you seemed peaceful. When you woke, everyone stopped holding their breath and felt some relief that their savior was alive."

Hadiden rubbed the back of his neck as he listened to Varric. He had missed a week of his life because of the Breach. And yet, what happened at the Temple, the parts before he woke as a prisoner, and what he dreamt after the Breach was missing. He couldn't remember anything. That week was missing from him completely.

"... Hadiden?" 

The Dalish blinked, hearing Varric's voice. Hadiden had lost himself in thought, staring off and forgetting Varric. The elf sighed and kicked a pebble. Creators curse him.

"Ir abelas, Varric. I was... distracted." Hadiden couldn't look at Varric. Instead he looked to the dying fire before looking at the back of his right hand, following the roots of his Vallaslin. Under his sleeve, the Vallaslin stopped an inch above his wrist. The design wove, looking like tangled roots, unlike the Vallaslin on his face. His face was to look like a tree, branches across his forehead and under his eyes while his chin had the roots. Of course, he had only seen the design a few times since he hardly looked in mirrors. He followed the line from his pinkie finger and followed it until it disappeared under his sleeve.

"Don't apologize." Varric waited a moment before adding, "Daisy had Dalish markings, but I never had the chance to ask her what her markings meant. They're supposed to mean something, aren't they?"

Hadiden smiled weakly, letting out a sigh. He liked Varric. "Yes, they mean something. They're called Vallaslin, blood writing. It's the marking of true Dalish, the last of the Elvhen. If I remember correctly, it's made from our blood with ink, sometimes different colored ink, but I wanted the traditional black. Each design is supposed to be a tribute to one of our Creators. I... I don't know what your friend's design looked like, but mine is a tribute to Mythal, our protector. She's also associated with love and motherhood, but my main focus has been protection since that's what a hunter does... protect the clan." 

Varric placed a hand on Hadiden's shoulder. The elf's eyes widened, moving away from Varric. Hadiden stumbled before standing, brushing himself of dirt. His heart was racing, his hands shaking. The elf felt his ears heating up. _Stay calm, stay calm. Don't let emotions take control. Don't let it out._

The dwarf looked just as surprised as Hadiden expected. His eyes where wide, his mouth slightly opened, as though he may say something. Hadiden's hands were shaking violently. All the elf could do was run his fingers through his hair, mutter nonsense, and quickly cower into the tent. He hoped that he would fall asleep before Varric went back to sleep. 

 

"Varric, flank left! Solas, fire to the right! Cassandra, guard Solas!" 

Hadiden fired arrow after arrow, piercing mage robes and Templars alike. The sound of metal clash against metal resonated all through the Hinderlands. Fireballs and ice barriers were sent towards the Inquisition, but also sent back, thanks to Solas. Every once in awhile, a Templar or mage would hit Hadiden, forcing him to pull his hunting knife to engage in close combat. Sometimes that was faster than his arrows, but it usually wore him out. Hadiden was just thankful to be fighting, no matter the style. He appreciated the mindless motions, allowing himself to forget and fall into pattern.

When there were no one else to fight, Hadiden was able to breathe. He didn't have a lot of blood on him, and sighed a relief to know that he still had some arrows left. When things calmed, scouts posting signs that the Inquisition was there to protect, refugees started to come out of their homes. 

One of the refugees ran up to Hadiden. It was a man- no, not a man. It was a boy, probably no older than sixteen. He looked like a farmer or maybe a son of one. He was panting and looked scared.

"Are you- are you the Herald? Mother Giselle said you would be coming to help us." The boy pointed to a house, refugees, mages, and Chantry sisters moving in and out of. From the corner of his sight, Hadiden could see a woman bent down near a cot. She was wearing a pink and white dress; the dress of a Revered Mother. Hadiden thanked the boy and watched him run off. He turned to his companions and told them to help where they could while he spoke to the Mother.

Hadiden sheathed his bow as he walked to where the Mother was. He watched as she comforted a soldier, one who was afraid of mages. Hadiden didn't blame his fear; he feared himself and what he could do. The elf crossed his arms across his chest, watching her. He figured she was used to this sort of comforting; she spoke with a parental tone, one of comfort. 

When she was finished, Hadiden waited until she was standing and could see him before saying, "Mother Giselle? You sent for me?" Hadiden tried to keep his head up, to not act like a scared child, but everything made him second guess his actions. Shemlan were putting trust in him, thanking him. They were looking up to him. Why did he have to be the Herald?

Mother Giselle nodded, smiling before walking past Hadiden, which he followed her quickly. Her hands were clasped in front of her, relaxed. Hadiden tried to look for signs of fear, of anything, but Mother Giselle seemed at ease. 

"You are the one they call the Herald of Andraste, no?" Her accent was strong. It was a surprise to Hadiden. He expected another Fereldan accent. The elf nodded, unable to say much else. He didn't believe to be sent by a shemlan God. 

"They say you walked out of the Breach, able to close the lingering rifts all over Thedas. The Grand Clerics fear you, fear the power you wield." She stopped, looking at Hadiden. Hadiden felt small. "I believe that if you spoke with them, convinced them you are not the monster that they believe you to be, then you could find help for the Breach." 

"Convince them?" Hadiden asked, feeling cold. He had to speak to a bunch of Chantry women who believed he killed the Divine? Fantastic. 

"Not all of them, just some of them. Make them..." Mother Giselle paused a moment, considering her words. "Make them doubt the rumors that they have heard. Their strength is their unified voice. Break that, and you may have a way to get aid for the Breach."

Hadiden considered the idea. All he had to do was to speak with a few clerics, make them doubt what they heard, and find support for the Breach. The plan didn't sound too bad. Maybe he could find the mages, get them to help for the Breach, and then maybe find the real murderer. 

"Thank you, Mother Giselle. I appreciate the help." Hadiden bowed his head, a form of respect he would give to the Keeper. It felt right giving the same respect to Mother Giselle. 

Hadiden was about to turn away when the Mother added, "I will return to Haven and do what I can to help. Good day, Herald of Andraste. May the Maker watch over you."

 

"If we get one more tower location posted, we can return to Haven, inform Cullen to build the watchtowers, and then go to Val Royeaux to face the clerics." Hadiden made tally marks into the dirt, the rest of his companions sitting around the campfire, listening. "By the time we get back from Val Royeaux, Cullen should have had enough time to get the towers built. Anything else we need done here before seeking help?" Hadiden looked at the others, waiting. They must have opinions.

Cassandra nodded. "We have already done so much for the refugees. We got rid of both the mage and Templar hideouts so that the refugees would be safe. We were even able to feed and keep them warm. If we could find a healer in Redcliffe..."

"No chance, Seeker." Varric said, setting Bianca down. He had been shining her for ten minutes. "We already tried to get into Redcliffe, remember? I think we gotta wait. Maybe for the mages to realize the war is over here. There's no way we can sneak in."

Hadiden weighed the idea. They needed the mages, no matter how much he or anyone else disliked the idea. He didn't like the idea because he already knew the dangers of magic first hand. To have hundreds more in Haven... He already knew that the people of Thedas already didn't like mages, so siding them would bring enemies. But Solas had theorized that the mark needed more magic, and that meant mages. He had said in theory that Cullen's idea could have worked, to get Templars instead of mages, but he didn't know how Hadiden felt with Templars. They were still new to the Dalish, but even so, the stories he heard from his father of the Templars made him uneasy. Cullen made him a little uneasy, but he wasn't a Templar anymore. He was the Commander of the Inquisition. 

"What ever happens, it happens. But first, we need to go address the Clerics in Val Royeaux." Hadiden put the stick down and looked at his companions. Whatever they did, find the Templars or plea to the mages, they had to do it and it would be dangerous.

"I still do not like the idea of going to the mages," Cassandra said, sighing. 

"I think that the mages would be very powerful allies to the Inquisition." Solas was stretching as he stated his opinion. It was obvious that Solas wanted the mages.

"Whatever we do, we're going to get enemies. People are going to hate us no matter what." Varric yawned then got up, going to his tent. Hadiden was kind of glad he was going to sleep first. He didn't want a repeat of the night before. 

 

Val Royeaux was a wonder. Hadiden had never been inside a city so big, so built up, that the sight of it was dizzying. He felt small, smaller than a bug in the forest. The gold and white and blue of the city reminded the elf of fine jewelry that his clan would sometimes find when moving. Everything was just so big and so shiny.

One of Leliana's scouts came running towards the Herald and his party. When the scout was a few paces away, she stopped and bowed to Hadiden, making the elf feel awkward, then began to speak rapidly.

"Herald! Praise the Maker that you're here! The Grand Clerics are all gathered, trying to rally support against you. They think that you're the one who killed Most Holy!"

Hadiden sighed. "That isn't a new rumor but it is a strong enough assumption to use against me and the Inquisition. I'll go and speak with them. Anything else I need to know?"

"There's Templars here, my Lord. They haven't done anything yet, but I suspect they're waiting. Possibly waiting for you." The scout sounded nervous, as if she assumed the Templars were there to actually attack him. He didn't doubt that they would attack if he did something wrong.

"Templars? Here in the city?" Cassandra seemed as confused as the scout. Hadiden had figured there were Templars everywhere. 

Hadiden turned and looked at the Seeker. "Did you say that the Templars had left the Order? Or did Cullen mention it?"

"I don't think it matters _who_ said it, but that the Templars did leave the Order but are some how gathered here," Varric said. He had a point. The Templars did leave the Order, breaking away from the Chantry, but they were gathering in the city with a bunch of clerics, waiting for Hadiden.

"Do you think they returned to the Order, Cassandra?" The elf asked. The Seeker shock her head. "I don't think so."

Cassandra turned to the scout. "We appreciate the warning. Go back and return to Leliana, letting her know why we might be... delayed."

The scout nodded, turning to Hadiden and bowing again before running off. The elf sighed and looked at the Seeker then looked to the city. He hoped that the Creators were watching over him and kept the Templars away. He didn't want to make a scene.

 

For an elf who was learning about the human Chantry and human Templars, he didn't expect a Templar to punch a priest and act as though his actions were justified. He had thought that Templars and Chantry worked together and not against each other. Then, as if to add to Hadiden's confusion, when Cassandra asked for help for the Breach to the Lord-Seeker (whoever he was, Cassandra must of knew him before the Inquisition), he told he to never to speak to him again and walked away. Hadiden hoped that the mages would be more... welcoming than the Templars. 

"That wasn't the most warmest of welcomes, but I'm not sure the Templars would be the best choice with help for the Breach. I think maybe the mages-"

As Hadiden tried to reason his explanation for not seeking further help with the Templars, an arrow zipped right in front of his face, making him stop in his tracks. The Dalish's heart was racing, his face feeling drained of color. Was someone trying to assassinate him in the middle of Val Royeaux? Before Hadiden could even think of doing anything, Varric walked over to the arrow, untied something from it. The dwarf's snort brought Hadiden out of his faze. 

"As jumbled as this note is, it actually has a message to it. The sender wants you to find red tokens around here for more notes about a meeting place." 

"I think before we find this mystery archer, I think there's a messenger waiting for the Herald," Solas said, pointing to a man who looked confused.

Hadiden rubbed his face, groaning. Behind him, he could hear Cassandra sigh. The gesture wasn't appropriate for Hadiden to make, but the Dalish was frustrated. First the clerics, then an arrow almost in his face, and now another message. The elf didn't like the attention.

Yet, the Herald walked towards the messenger. 

"Are.. are you the Herald of Andraste?" The man asked. Hadiden had no way of reading his expression because of the Orleisan mask he wore. What was with the masks anyways? After Hadiden nodded, the man continued.

"I have an invitation from Madame de Fer. She hopes that you will be able to attend her gather, ser." 

With that, the man handed Hadiden a letter and walked away, leaving the elf with his party to decide what to do. 

"Let's..." Hadiden started, "let's go find the red tokens and find the mystery archer. Hopefully they're here in Val Royeaux."

 

"Herald, might you have a moment?"

Hadiden was about to leave the city, to hunt down the archer who nearly shot him, when a voice called behind him. The elf turned to see another elf wearing mage robes. Her hair was short and pushed back. Hadiden didn't see Vallaslin, making the woman a city elf probably, or a Circle mage. 

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra was beside the Dalish, looking surprised to see the elvish woman. Hadiden looked at the Seeker. _Grand Enchanter?_

"Is there something you need, Grand Enchanter?" Hadiden asked, not feeling right. He didn't like this mage woman. Something was wrong, felt wrong. Maybe it was because she was a mage. Maybe it was because it was the timing. First Templars and now mages. He didn't want to see another Chantry cleric get out punched.

"I wanted to offer the assistance of the mages to the Inquisition." The Grand Enchanter had almost no emotion in her words. She sounded cold. Hadiden didn't like it. 

"The mages want to work with the Inquisition?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. He didn't like this, not one bit.

"We want to offer help to end what _they_ caused." 

"You mean the Templars," Varric chimed. 

"Wait, the mages think that the Templars?" Hadiden asked, shocked. Why were they against each other? Did the Templars believe the mages were responsible for the Conclave exploding? Did the mages want to hurt the Templars more than they already were with the war?

"What other explanation is there? To set up an explosion and blame those with the power capable of making explosions? To make the rest of Thedas hate the mages more than they already fear them? It would be a clever play, and the mages wish to right the wrong with aiding the Inquisition in closing the Breach." Fiona looked at Hadiden. For a moment, Hadiden thought her eyes were pleading for him to accept. He was missing something to this puzzle. 

Hadiden mentally scolded himself as he said, "the Inquisition with consider the aid of the mages. Ma serannas, Grand Enchanter."

"Please do," she said. "The mages are willing and ready to help the Inquisition."

When the Grand Enchanter turned and walked away, Hadiden's stomach fell, giving him the feeling of throwing up. 

This was too much to handle for one elf. But he needed to know what he was missing, after finding the archer who nearly killed him and meeting Madame de Fer.


	7. New Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to take a moment to say I do not own anything belonging to Dragon Age.
> 
> I've read fics with people putting that and I felt I should do it just in case. I don't work for Bioware nor do I own Dragon Age or characters. I'm just a fanfic writer.

"Annnnddddd, you're an elf."

Hadiden Lavellan had no clue whether he should be offended or not. This was the first time that him being an elf was a problem. Madame de Fer, whose real name was Vivienne, had no problem with him being an elf. He couldn't tell if she thought he was cute or not, her tone of voice was lined with charm, which made him uncomfortable. Once they had talked and he learned that she wanted to aid the Inquisition, he accepted her aid. What put him off was her insistence on the Circles being reformed. Hadiden didn't want her to learn of his magic, only because she would probably agree that he was dangerous and needed to be locked away forever. 

After the party with Vivienne, Hadiden decided he wanted to investigate the _Red Jenny_ tokens and the mystery archer. Said archer turned out to be a female elf with short, choppy blonde hair. At first she had a really happy smile, as though she was pleased with killing a random Orleisan noble, but she seemed almost angered by his origin. Maybe Josephine was right; some people did think poorly of elves, including other elves. 

"Well that's enough chit chat! Got a load of other of 'em coming and thanks to a tip from a friend of mine," the elf woman giggled and notched an arrow. "They've got no breeches!"

"Wait, what?" Hadiden almost panicked when the elf skipped off to the side and at least a dozen of Orleisan guards came running out of no where. And the woman was right; they had no breeches. 

Hadiden had no time to plan their attack. He was left with stumbling out, "Solas, to the right, keep by cover. Cassandra, make sure no one breaks past to Solas. Varric, just hit one of them!" 

Hadiden was trying to focus on the attackers, on fighting, but the no breeches was really distracting. 

_Arrow, notch, aim, fire. Arrow, notch, aim, fire. Don't aim low. Creators, why did she only take the breeches? Why didn't she take the weapons?_

When the last noble guard fell, Hadiden was mentally tired. What in the world was going on? 

"That was fun, wann'it? And they had no breeches!" The elf woman was practically hopping and giggling from the fact that guards came out and fought without a proper uniform. Hadiden couldn't see how it was funny. The Dalish ran a hand through his hair, sighing. 

"It might have been more fun if they hadn't had their weapons." He watched the woman _stick out her tongue and blow a raspberry_ at him. Hadiden's eyes were wide because of the action.

"What fun would that had been? Least this way the bastards looked like a bunch of friggin' idiots," she said before turning, looking down at a dead man, and yanking an arrow out of his face. It was the noble who was killed first. "The name's Sera, and you're the Heraldy guy, right? The glowing elf that fell outta the sky?" 

"Glowing?" Hadiden asked. He was the glowing elf?

"Yeah! You do the glowing thing and _bam_ Fade hole is closed! That's you, innit?" With Hadiden's approving nod, she continued. 

"I want to join you and this, this inquisition thingy." She was smiling and wiping the arrow of the blood. 

Hadiden looked back at his party, trying to figure if they had any advice to the situation. All three of them glanced away, leaving Hadiden with making a choice on his own. "First, can I know what's going on? Who was that man?"

Sera shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno him from manners quite honest. Got a tip from a friend that the Inquisition might wanna look at him because he pissed off some random sod." Sera placed the arrow into her quiver and waited. Hadiden raised an eyebrow and asked, "what? Friends?"

"Yeah! See, I sent the note bout the Friends of Red Jenny, that's me and whole bunch of other people all over right. Think there's one in Starkhaven, three in Kirkwall. They're brothers or something. Dunno. And maybe two in Denerim. We all get tips and what not and place high up snobs in their place.

"'Fore you ask 'oh how does that all work,' I got an answer. See, you got high up pricks who spend all their time trying to kill each other. _I'll crush you, oh I'll crush you! Oh crush you._ Then you got your guard boys right, the men who protect the prickly sods high up. Then the servants and stable boys who don't know shite but know a bad man when they see 'em. We take those tips from the people and make sure the _oh so powerful nobles_ are put where they belong."

Hadiden felt his head swimming in mud. Somehow, the whole idea of the Red Jenny group just didn't seem to work. How was it coordinated? Who was in charge? Someone had to be running the group of strangers. Yet, the Dalish didn't feel like pushing his brain further than it already was and said, "I see. And what makes you want to join the Inquisition?"

Sera rocked on her heels for a moment, clicking her tongue before answering.

"See, with the big ol' hole in the sky, buggers afraid to go out and do bad. This leaves the coin running dry which is pretty bad for business. So, once the sky is all fixed up and no more magic up there, then the business will be running again and profit will be back. Get it?"

"You just want your business back and joining the Inquisition to close the Breach is your solution to getting your coin back?"

"Yep! So what'd'ya say?"

The Dalish looked at the city elf. Faint freckles dotted her nose, her green eyes shimmering in the moon light. She was smiling and proficient with a bow. There was a lot unsaid right now, as in where she came from and her training, but Hadiden felt as though that wasn't important at the moment. He needed the aid of as many people as he could for the Inquisition to close the Breach. Maybe having Sera will help gain approval from the lower class as well has help win allies with the nobles. 

"All right, Sera. You can join." Hadiden almost laughed when Sera pumped her fist in the air and grinned. 

"Alright! Gettin' good before you're too big, ammiright? I'll meet you back at Haven then, oh your Heraldy-Ness."

With that, Sera hopped and skipped off into the night, not to be seen again until the group returned to Haven.

What was left was for Hadiden to go to Haven to plan their next move.

 

Back in the Hinderlands, Hadiden could barely sleep. His mind was awake and recalling all that had been said back in Haven.

_"Why should we go and get the mages? I don't like the idea of putting more magic into that thing," Cullen had said, shaking his head. He hadn't wanted the mages._

_"They may be the only ones that could help the Herald close the Breach," Josephine had answered, frowning._

_"Josie is right. We don't know for sure that the Templars-"_

_"I was a Templar, I know what they're capable of."_

_Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana continued arguing until Hadiden had stopped them._

_"I was thinking that we should stop arguing over who to get and figure out who we can get. Neither group seems favorable, nor do they seem to want to work with us, but right now, we need to figure out which group will work willingly with us." Hadiden had crossed his arms when they reached the war room._

_"I agree," Cassandra had said, giving a small smile to Hadiden's resolve to the three's argument._

Before going after the mages, though, Hadiden had gotten a message to meet a mercenary group out by the Wounded Coast. The messenger was a nice man and explained that their leader, the Iron Bull, was interested in a partnership. Against what he believed was his advisors' better judgement, Hadiden took the time to meet the Chargers and the Iron Bull. The elf hadn't expected the man to be a qunari, or a qunari spy at that, but he accepted the help from the Chargers. 

The best thing about the Chargers was that they had a Dalish with them. Even though she was a mage, pretending to use a bow and her magic, Hadiden felt greater kinship to her than he felt for Solas or Sera. He felt more at ease with one of the People in Haven. 

Now they were settled the Hinderlands, awaiting for morning to come so they could go into Redcliffe to see the Grand Enchanter. They had spent the morning trying to hunt down a Grey Warden, a request from Leliana. Warden Blackwall had no clue as to why Wardens were disappearing but offered his help to the Inquisition. Hadiden asked some scouts to escort the Warden back to Haven while they made for Redcliffe. 

Well, in the waking world they were settled in the Hinderlands. While dreaming, Hadiden was in the isolated camp that once belonged to his clan. It was the camp that they usually set near Ostwick. Hadiden wandered the camp, reminiscing in the look of the Dalish grounds. It wasn't long before he noticed the dark hair of the demon whom tempted him since his magic surfaced.

"Difficult, isn't it, Dalish. To now be the leader of an army but having to keep your secret private. Don't you fear them finding out?"

Hadiden walked to stand by the abomination. The relationship between the two grew with passing months. 

"Hardly, Desire," Hadiden lied. Everyday it grew more and more difficult to conceal his magic. 

The demon laughed, flashing a fanged smile. Recently, more and more of his demon features surfaced passed his elf disguise. "Yet you feel drained, tired of holding yourself together for the sake of not being found out. Does that not weigh on you?"

"It does not matter what it does to me. What matters is that I do what I must to close the Breach and to return to my clan." Hadiden started at the ground, shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

"Ah, yes. The Breach," Desire started. "The open door between here and your world. Pity that I don't go and look for it myself, to join in the real world, but alas, I would be unable to tempt you properly." 

Hadiden was about to tell the demon to go away but was stopped. 

"And even so, you say you wish to return to your beloved clan, but your heart does not truly desire that. You are enjoying the freedom away from your people, from the judging eyes of your elders. You desire to be free. Isn't that true, Dalish?"

Hadiden glared that the creature. What did this thing know about he desired? Sure, he might have known about his preferences, but he was easily read as a child. He was an adult now. Hadiden wanted to see his parents again, his clan, his home...

Didn't he?

"Whatever I desire is none of your concern. I will return to my clan when I please. For now, I must close the Breach, seeing as I'm the only one able to." Hadiden lifted his left hand, looking at the mark. The green glow looked more intense while he dreamed, as though it for forged from the Beyond itself. 

Desire laughed. "So you seeking out those with the very gift you condemn? You truly are a mystery, Hidden Mage."

 

Two things; rifts and magisters.

While Hadiden had _thought_ he knew all about rifts, the rifts at Redcliffe had surprised him. The rifts made time feel as though it sped up or slowed down. Hadiden had made the mistake and stepped into the shifted areas of the rift. Every time he moved out of it, his head would be spinning, trying to catch up or slow down to meet the correct moment of time. When the rift was sealed, the Dalish actually started vomiting. His stomach was flipping as his head was spinning to catch up with the real world. It took nearly five minutes before Hadiden was able to stand right without needing to puke.

"You look like shit, Hadi," Varric had said, frowning at the elf. Hadiden sniffed and wiped his nose. The elf coughed once more before trying to walk into Redcliffe.

He hadn't gotten far before passing out.

 

It was two hours later when Hadiden woke up, woken in a home of a Redcliffe villager. Of course, the Dalish had panicked and tried to fasten on his armor, trying to get out of the house before someone found him. 

"Don't rush yourself, kid."

Hadiden looked up to see Varric in a chair, writing in what looked to be a book. The elf stopped midway from strapping on one of his many buckles to stare at the dwarf. 

"Don't worry, it's just me. Chuckles and the Seeker went to see what they could do to help out the people of Redcliffe. They did take some herbs to give to the healer to convince her to go to the Crossroads, but I think they're gone to go look for some farmer's ram." Varric put the book down and stood, stretching. 

"How long was I out?" Hadiden continued to put his armor back on but slower. He could relax a bit instead of worrying. 

" 'Bout two hours. Though, we did expect you to be asleep longer."

"Why?"

"You know, you talk in your sleep. I have no idea what you're dreaming about, let alone know what dreams are like, but from what you've been saying, I don't think you've been sleeping very well at all. The Seeker and I figured you've been running on a few hours of sleep now and kinda expected you to pass out sooner or later." The dwarf made his way to the bed where Hadiden was sitting. Varric didn't move to sit beside the elf, nor did he move to touch him. All the dwarf did was stand near the bed, ready if Hadiden needed any help.

The Dalish looked around the room before settling on Varric. "What was I saying?" He asked, feeling embarrassed for talking in his sleep.

"It seemed mostly like gibberish. You muttering something about hiding, something about your clan I think? I think you even said something about a demon, but it could have been something else," Varric said, sighing. "Look, Hadi. As much as you're trying to pull off the leader persona, you need to be resting too. I've seen how bad this can get for a person. A friend of mine nearly ran himself dry trying to fix things."

Hadiden pulled his leg onto the bed, then the other, so that he was cross legged and staring at Varric. Said dwarf laughed, saying, "and you want to hear about it, don't you? Maker, you Dalish just love stories.

"As much as the Seeker loves to believe that Hawke was as easy going and skilled, as eloquent and put together as some versions of the tale like to make him sound, he wasn't. Hawke was just a refugee from Fereldan during the Blight, just trying to save his family, or what was left of it. But the time period I'm talking about is about, eh, three months before the qunari attacked-"

"Qunari attacked Kirkwall?" Hadiden's eyes widen, disbelief on his features. He didn't know that Kirkwall was attacked! Wouldn't that have started a war?

Varric laughed at the interruption. "Yeah, they did. It was over their prized book that Rivaini had. But we didn't know she had it or was looking for it. Instead, she just told us her life depended on it being found.

"But the city was restless due to the qunari residing in their compound by the docks. They had been blamed for different killings, a couple robberies, and someone attempted to later frame them for planting poison in the city. All of this was trying to break the peace between the people and qunari. Hawke was in the middle of all this.

"For months, Hawke was trying to calm the people, letting them know that the qunari didn't want anything from them, only wanted to leave. He tried to tell the qunari that the people were not controlled but that the disarray of the people was the freedom th at those not under the qun could understand. Neither group agreed on Hawke's view, hardly believing what he said, but he was persistent on the conflict. He wanted everything to calm down before it got out of hand. In the end, Hawke couldn't control it, seeing as how it would explode in our faces anyways, but he did try. 

"I wasn't with Hawke at the time, but him, Broody, Blondie, and Rivaini had gone out after some Slavers, a lead brought to light by Broody since he was also trying to fuck with slave trade. Anyways, they had been searching all morning. Broody had told me that Hawke seemed quiet most of the time, not cracking jokes as he would whenever it was a slow day. He also said that Hawke seemed spaced out, tripping over his own feet every now and again. Broody was damn near concerned. He lost it when Hawke actually stopped in the middle of the road and passed out. Blondie told me that they all panicked, Broody the most since he started to do his glowing ghost thing, looking to make sure no one had hit Hawke with an arrow or anything. Blondie did a one over with his magic and told Broody and Rivaini that Hawke was just exhausted. Neither Broody or Blondie would tell me anything when they showed up in the Hanged Man, Hawke being carried on Broody's back. Rivaini caught me up while the other two took Hawke to my room and tended to him. I got to talk to him when he woke up a few hours later. 

"What I learned was that Hawke had been trying to help the city guards with the qunari rioters, which were people trying to break into the compound. He was trying to track movements, figure out how the group's were working, and going solo hunting every now and again. Sometimes he would bring his mabari, but that was rare. He said that he had been sleeping may be two or three hours every two days, trying to keep up with our usual shit and the shit the guards were adding to his job list. He was just run dry and had to rest. In the end, I made him go back to sleep and put Broody on watch on him for awhile, to make sure he actually was taking care of himself."

Hadiden felt a pain in his stomach. Maybe he was acting like Hawke, trying to do impossible tasks without sleep. Cullen had asked him to try and gather support from the people, to gather those who would join their army. Leliana wanted leads on the Wardens. Josephine wanted Hadiden to seek nobles who would aid in support of the Inquisition. The elf tried to avoid sleeping some days so that he could get these impossible tasks finished, but also because he feared night terrors. He didn't want to fall asleep and risk waking up in a panic, having his emotions react to the sudden fear. 

Hadiden was wearing himself thin.

"I'm not saying we hire someone to make sure you're sleeping and eating right, but I wanted to bring to light that you are messin' yourself up with this, and causing a lot of worry. We already had to worry about you, what with that weird mark that sends demons back to who knows where and already closing the Breach once. We don't want you to kill yourself by stressing yourself to your grave." Varric sighed, obviously struggling between invading Hadiden's personal space and leaving about nine feet between them. Hadiden laughed.

"I think I'm going to stress myself to my grave anyways Varric-" 

Something fell, possibly outside or in the next room. Hadiden couldn't name the object, not by the sound, but his heart stopped. 

In the elf's defense, he tried to reach for his bow, a bow that was across the room where Varric had been sitting. Even with his heart racing, Hadiden could feel his fingers tingle, the numbing feeling of lyrium on his finger tips. Mixed with his racing panic, fear wove into his stomach. 

It was without warning that a small fire ball hit the floor where Hadiden had attempted to reach for his bow. 

Silence filled the room between Varric and Hadiden. Hadiden quickly pulled his hand back, trying to pull it into himself. 

He didn't... couldn't have... 

"Holy Maker, Hadiden. You're a-"

"I'm not!" Hadiden could feel the sting of tears swelling in his eyes. "I am not _that_! Please, please don't tell anyone, Varric. Cassandra will kill me, Cullen will throw me in jail before that, Josie will never speak with me, Leliana will probably send assassin's after me, all of Haven will-" 

Hadiden was rambling on, panic filling his words. He refused to shed his tears, but he was... was...

Afraid.

Hadiden didn't calm down, not truly. He just stopped his word rampage when Varric looked at him, shaking his head.

_He hates me, he wants me dead. He's mad that I lied. Creators help me._

"Just when I thought you'd stop surprising us, you go and pull this shit." Varric was waiting, possibly for Hadiden to say something, but the elf stayed quiet. Varric sighed. "Look, Hadi, I'm not going to tell anyone, if that's what you want. This obviously has a tragic backstory written in it, but I won't ask about it since I know how tragic isn't the easiest topic to talk about. Just... I don't know, but I'm not going to say a word to the Seeker."

 

_So a Dalish elf walks into a tavern to talk to a Tevinter Magister and a Grand Enchanter of the Mage Rebellion..._

Hadiden felt as though the situation was the beginning to a terrible joke, one that Varric could have started. 

What exactly was he doing? He was Dalish and about to meet with a magister from Tevinter! Was he losing his mind?

"All right, let's come to an agreement then." Hadiden followed the magister, Alexius, to a table to discuss an alliance between the mages and Inquisition. 

Probably. 

When Hadiden sat down, he was ready to discuss what had to be done to gain the mages, to agree with the magister's terms. Firstly, he just wanted to get away from the Tevinter man, his mind retelling all the ancient stories the Harhen would tell of Tevinter and the Dalish. Secondly, Hadiden wanted the mages so that he could close the Breach sooner and go back to the Free Marches. 

"Of course, friends. Ah!" The magister smiled, looking over to a young man in similar clothes, yet the young man's clothes were lined with yellow instead of red. "Let me introduce to you my son, Felix," Alexius said, smiling. His attention was turned back to Hadiden, but Hadiden was still focused on Felix. The young man was still walking before stumbling, falling forward.

Something innate in Hadiden kicked in as he jumped from his seat to catch the magister's son. Hadiden could hear Alexius starting to get up, but he had been too slow. 

Yet, it seemed that Felix wanted the elf to get up first.

As Felix tried to right himself, his hand slid into Hadiden's for support. With the action, Hadiden could feel something slip into his hand other than Felix's hand. In any other situation, Hadiden would have shoved him to the side, freaking out because of the contact, but instead, felt nothing but concern. Something wasn't right at all.

"Felix!" Alexius was at his side, trying to right his son. Hadiden was still holding Felix up by his elbow, watching as he rubbed his head and said, "my apologies everyone. I... I don't know what happened."

Alexius coddled his son, taking on the role of the main supporter. "No, everything is all right Felix. My apologies my friends, but you must excuse us!" Alexius said, calling for Fiona to follow as they left the tavern. Hadiden swore he heard Felix apologize again, but was too focused on the passed object to worry about what he said.

When the door was closed, leaving the small party to wonder what happened, Hadiden looked in his hand. In his hand was a folded piece of parchment. The elf slowly unfolded the paper to see squiggles. Hadiden sighed and looked at his party before handing Varric the paper.

"Varric, what does it say?" He asked, ignoring the coughed laugh from Cassandra.

"The hand writing is really nice, but it says 'Come to the Chantry. You are in danger.' Well, if I didn't know better, someone thinks they're giving you new news, Hadi." Varric snorted before handing the note back to Hadiden. The elf sighed and stuffed the note into a pouch on his belt, running a hand through his hair. 

"Well, it's worth investigating. I'm interested to see who thinks I need to be warned about my impending death." Hadiden smiled when Varric laughed, Cassandra sighed, and Solas said, "we should be weary. We do not know who will be there, nor what they will do."

"Agreed. Let's go." Hadiden spun on his heels, heading straight for the door. Maybe something ancient in his blood was beginning to boil, but if he ran into one more magister, Hadiden felt as though he would tear the bastard's head off.

 

Hadiden hadn't spent time in Chantrys. He only went into the Chantry in Haven, only because that was where the Inquisition had set up base. The Chantry in Redcliffe felt small, as though it wasn't nearly as important as the one placed in Haven. 

But the wooden doors into the religious temple gave the same squeaking sound as the one in Haven, felt as rough and worn as the Haven doors, and smelled like dust, just like the Haven Chantry. Some things didn't change.

Well, some things did.

In the middle of the Chantry was a rift, spewing out demons left and right. From what Hadiden could tell, this rift was similar to the one outside Redcliffe, shifting time in the rings it created. 

In the middle of the demon mess? A man in white robes, _beating a demon with a staff._

Hadiden felt his stomach dropped as he watched the man move, as if dancing around the demon as he beat the thing with his staff, rather than using the magic he obviously wielded. When the man turned around, able to switch his attention to the new intruders rather than the demons, he flashed a smile, reaching up to fix a miss placed hair.

"Oh good! You've finally arrived! Could you lend a hand here?" 

Hadiden, as if charmed, immediately grabbed his bow, ordering his party around to help defend the man.

"Solas, far right! Stick between the pillars. Varric flank to the left. Cassandra, stay to the center. Whatever you do, do not step into the rings!" Hadiden fired an arrow, the feel of the wood in his hands relaxing him, not making him want to kill the man before him as much. It would be simple, to shift his line of fire, and hit the Tevinter man. 

As graceful as the Tevinter was, Hadiden was twice as graceful with his arrows. He moved like the wind, his movements easy like a breeze. The Tevinter moved like water, easily flowing and following whatever pattern was already set. Hadiden was free to move. 

When all the demons had been sent back into the Beyond, Hadiden raised his hand, feeling the chill of the Beyond in the mark flow out to seal the rift. The pain was dulled down, no longer bothering Hadiden as it did the first few times. 

The the rip was fixed, the Tevinter walked up to Hadiden, reaching to grab his hand. Hadiden glared and reached for his hunting knife, sending the Tevinter back. Instead of stepping all the way back, the man laughed and put his hands up. 

"Amazing, isn't it? How does that work exactly?" The man asked, glancing down towards Hadiden's marked hand.

"What... what does it matter?" Hadiden retorted. 

The Tevinter laughed again. "You don't even know how it works! You just wiggle your fingers and bam, the rift is closed!"

Hadiden slowly placed his knife back where he had pulled it from. He then straightened his back, trying to gain some height. The man was a foot taller than him and... and...

"How does it do that?" The Dalish was staring at the man's face, particularly at the mustache. Why was it curling at the sides like that? Was it supposed to do that?

It seemed that the Tevinter was offended, if his expression of horror said anything. Hadiden could hear Varric laughing and turned to see Cassandra shaking her head. Solas was concealing a smile. 

"Excuse me? Are you speaking of my mustache?" the man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Hadiden coughed to try and erase his question, trying to get whatever kind of meeting his was back on track.

"Ir abelas, Tevinter. My name is Hadiden Lavellan, I work for the Inquisition." Hadiden watched the man smile a moment before bowing slightly. A Tevinter bowing to a Dalish? His clan would have loved to witness that.

"Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do, Hadiden Lavellan?" His smile was brilliant, shining in the candle light of the Chantry.

_Creators no. Do not think about him like that. He will turn out to be another Oliver. Stop it, Hadiden._

"Besides the obvious death threat I've received, fairly well. No offense, Dorian, but I was expecting Felix. I... uh.. wasn't expect another magister." Hadiden had shrugged his shoulders, somewhat making a joke but then being serious. He was curious about Felix. He was the one whom wrote the note, wasn't he?

Somehow, Hadiden had offended Dorian again because he said, "all right, I'll say this once. Not every mage from Tevinter is a magister. I know you Southerners like to use the term interchangeably but it makes you sound like savages.

"As for Felix, he should be coming. It might take awhile depending on how long his father fusses over him. But the note, yes the note. It should be clear that you're in danger." Dorian sighed, shifting his weight before looking at Hadiden again. Hadiden blinked. Dorian's eyes were like a stormy sky-

_Stop it! Stop that right now, Lavellan._

"I'm ways in danger nowadays, that much isn't new. What can you tell me about this new threat?" 

"They're called the Venatori. They're a Tevinter radical group that want you dead," a voice from behind said. Hadiden turned his head to see Felix approaching. Another Tevinter, that wasn't a problem was it.

"And here I thought you'd never show!" Dorian said before lowering his voice. "Is he getting suspicious?" He asked, glancing Felix over. Strange.

"No, but I thought he'd be fretting over me all day. I shouldn't have played the sick card." Felix said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Hadiden coughed, trying to get both Tevinters' attentions. 

"Why would the Venatori want me dead, which by the way is very flattering. Usually people wish for my death behind my back, without a warning." Hadiden looked between Felix and Dorian, waiting for an answer. 

Dorian laughed, flashing that smile again. 

"Flattering isn't it? They adore you so much that they created a whole radical group in honor to kill you! I think a fruit basket would appreciated," Dorian said, making both Hadiden and Varric laugh. This was serious. They shouldn't be laughing. 

"Tempting. But what does the Venatori want with the mages of Fereldan?" Hadiden looked at Felix, hoping for someone a bit more serious. Felix shook his head.

"I don't know. All I know is that my father is part of the group and is doing as they asked. Apparently they serve someone called the Elder One, and he wants the mages. For what, I don't know, but they want you out of the way." Felix frowned at the elf. Hadiden felt sorry for the man. His father was involved in a radical group from Tevinter. That had to be worse than just being Tevinter. 

The elf sighed, looking at the ground a moment before looking at Felix, then Dorian. 

"There has to be something more going on here. What about the rifts? Does Alexius have anything to do with them?" Hadiden asked, trying to fit pieces together. Only the rifts at Redcliffe were changing time and there were Tevinters only in Redcliffe.

Dorian glanced at Felix before saying, "back when Alexius was my mentor, time magic was simply a theory. We could never get it to work, no matter what we tried. With the rifts open all across Thedas, they could be aiding in getting the magic to finally work. My only question is, is as to why that is important now, and why they want you dead."

Felix added, "he can close the rifts, Dorian. Maybe that's why they want him dead?"

"Good guess," Dorian said. "But that doesn't help us understand why they need the rifts open, or why they want to use the time magic."

Hadiden felt as though things were going to become circular. Now he just wanted to leave.

"Whatever the case, I need to do something about it. We need Alexius out of Redcliffe, and we need to figure out more about this Venatori." 

Dorian nodded, smiling at Felix before smiling at Hadiden. 

"So seems the case. I should be going now, as should you. But don't worry, Hadiden, we will be keeping in touch, I'm sure." Dorian turned, walking towards the back. Was there an exit back there?

Before he left, he looked over his shoulder and said, "and Felix, try not to get yourself killed. I'd be terribly cross with you if you did."

With that, Dorian disappeared. Hadiden looked at Felix, watching the man. He looked like he was spinning over with sorrow, yet felt at peace. 

"There are worse things than dying, Dorian." He looked at Hadiden then said, "Excuse me, Herald. I must be going myself. My father will grow suspicious if I am gone too long, and I wouldn't want him to find you or Dorian. We will meet again."

The Dalish watched at Felix left the Chantry, leaving the small party alone. Hadiden took a breath.

"We should return to Haven. We need to discuss a strategy into the castle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Dorian. The next chapters are going to be so much fun!


	8. In Hushed Whispers

Hadiden ghosted his hand atop the War room map. The thin parchment flattening under his touch. The elf grazed over the Wounded Coast, following the ridges with his finger tips. He placed his palm over the letters he could not read, hoping that his hand was covering the Free Marches. His fingers danced along the mountain outlines, trying to imagine where his clan would be. Would they be near the sea? Or were they closer to a city? Hadiden could only guess.

The elf's ears twitched when the War room door opened, making a newly familiar creaking sound. He wasn't startled, which came very much as a surprise since he was easily frightened, much like a wild halla.

Hadiden turned his head to the side to watch the Seeker walk in, standing beside him. As odd as it was, Hadiden didn't feel too intimidated by Cassandra anymore. Of course, he still feared her finding out about his magic, his curse, but he liked her. She was bold, brave, and a skilled warrior. He envied her a bit, mostly for her skill with a sword. Hadiden had never been good with swords or shields, feeling too heavy with the weapon. His bow allowed for gracefully movement that Hadiden could never find with a sword, yet Cassandra moved with just as much grace and ease as he did. 

"I hope you are right, about the Tevinter I mean. I do not trust his kind, nor would I have thought you would trust him, but we cannot change what we have planned." Hadiden could feel her stare at him. The elf felt his ears heat up, the tips possibly going red. 

He had to agree, he didn't trust Dorian. Everything about him told Hadiden not to trust him. The main problem was that he was Tevinter! Hadiden was Dalish, a natural enemy to Dorian. Yet, something pulled at him to agree to go and aid the mages. Maybe it was how Josephine and Leliana pointed out that there was a foreign power in Redcliffe, or how Alexius was purposefully trying to send an invitation to Hadiden's death. Maybe it was the captivating stormy eyes that-

_Stop that. He is Tevinter, and a man. You already have enough problems, don't add this man to the list. It will end up like Oliver again._

Hadiden sighed, leaving his hand on top of the map.

"I don't like it any more than you do, Cassandra, but right now, it's all we have. The mages are willing enough to leave Alexius' side to join us if we can get him out of there. While I may not like working with Dorian, I have to trust that he isn't going to go behind our backs and lead me into a death trap. That isn't easy." Hadiden looked at the woman, watching as she quickly shifted her glaze to the map. For a moment, Hadiden thought she was looking at one of the locations, but her eyes were fixated on the elf's hand.

"You are... from the Free Marches, correct? I had over heard you and Varric talking and heard mention of the Marches." Cassandra looked at Hadiden, relaxing at his approving nod.

"I am. The Free Marches is a lovely place. I love the forests there, being able to hide in the thickest parts. It's best for hunting. Though, the winters are some times bad, I love when spring comes. When spring arrives, my clan usually finds softer parts of the forests, and everything starts to become alive again. The halla have their young, you start to hear birds again, and the blooming flowers start to come back. I remember my mother asked me when I was younger, about nine or ten, to pick the prettiest flowers I seen. I would pick the purple and pink ones. I never knew why, but the way they smelled, like elfroot mixed with honey, always made me think of my mother. She would smile and braid some in her hair, and would tuck one behind my ear, 'for good luck from Mythal,' she would say." Hadiden smiled at the map, trying to remember the flowers he would pick for his mother. The thought of his mother brought a lump to his throat. 

"In the spring, when I was about sixteen I think, I had left to go hunting for the first time alone. My Keeper had said if I brought home a pelt of a beast I killed all on my own, I would be deemed a full member of the clan, an adult. I went out, nervous and almost frighten. I was used to hunting with a clanmate or my father, but never alone. But I found a wolf and had killed it. When I came back, the Keeper told me how proud she was of me. Then I went to tell my parents. My father was proud too, smiling and hugging me, saying I was going to be a full member and that I made him a proud man. My mother started crying, hugging me. I thought she was sad, but she grabbed my face and said, 'all that worrying for nothing, Da'len. You're a member of the clan now. Mythal has given you her blessing. I love you, Hadiden.' I remember she had the flowers I had brought the other day still in her hair. I think that's one of my most favorite memories of the Free Marches." 

Hadiden sighed, looking at the Seeker. Cassandra was wide eyed, cheeks a slight pink color. The elf couldn't help but give a sly smile. "Ir abelas, Cassandra. I didn't mean to ramble."

Cassandra shook her head. "Do not apologize. You must truly miss you clan." Hadiden nodded. "I am from Nevarra myself, though, I do not have too many fond memories. My uncle never let me go and see the city for myself, besides the Necropolis." There was a moment of silence before Cassandra said, "if you would like, I could ask Leliana to find your clan. She could make sure they are safe and you would be able to tell them how you are doing."

Hadiden felt his heart drop, the lump in his throat growing. He had to swallow a few times before barely managing out, "if you wouldn't mind. I would appreciate that very much."

 

Inside castle Redcliffe, Hadiden felt cold to the bone. The air felt stifling cold, like ice would wrap around Hadiden and claim him to death. The tapestry of Fereldan dogs (weren't they called mabaris?) decorated the hall. While to a Fereldan, they may have brought pride to the countrymen, but for the Dalish, it mean no sense to hang pictures of dogs all around a castle.

He would have made the dogs halla instead, though, that probably wouldn't have been much better. 

After convincing one of Alexius' men to allow Cassandra and Varric to follow the elf into the throne room, Hadiden felt on edge. He was about to go into a death trap, trusting that Dorian would be in the secret tunnels with the scouts. He had to trust the Tevinter wouldn't kill the scouts and come to help Alexius kill him. 

"Friends! Welcome!" Alexius said, smiling and opening his arms as Hadiden walked in. The cold chills grew, making goosebumps spread over the Dalish elf's arms. "Please, come in. Let us discuss our agreement that we were previously going over."

"Of course," Hadiden said, folding his arms across his chest. Alexius was acting as though they were close friends. Hadiden wanted to be close enough to cut his throat.

"Wait!" The elf turned his head to look at the Grand Enchanter. She looked distressed. Hadiden's shoulders dropped a bit, guilt finding its way into him. "Do I not have a say in how this alliance will go? Aren't you two trying to decide the fate of my people?"

"Fiona-" Alexius started.

"If the Grand Enchanter wishes to be apart of this, then I welcome her as a voice in the Inquisition." Hadiden looked at the woman, smiling as she relaxed, smiling back. She gave a small nod and mouthed the words _thank you_. 

Hadiden figured he was wearing all Alexius and his patience thin. The magister turned and relaxed into his chair, Redding his hand under his chin. "If that is all, shall we move into discussion? Yes?"

The man walked for Hadiden's nod, then proceeded.

"Good. Lavellan, isn't it? What would your Inquisition have to offer me in turn for my mages?" Alexis asked, leaning forward just to look at Hadiden. The elf smiled. 

"Nothing. I don't want anything for the mages. I'm just going to take them and leave, if that isn't asking for too much." The Dalish was trying to keep his composure as he delivered his lines. He had practiced with Varric about what he would say if they had gotten to the point of discussion over the mages. Hadiden hoped Varric was pleased with the witty retort.

Alexius wasn't pleased. The man stood from his chair, taking a few steps closer to the elf. "Nothing? You would so boldly walk into my fortress and demand my mages? A Dalish elf ordering around a magister, what a joke. What makes you think I'll just give you my mages, elf?" 

Said elf was taken back. Instead of calling him a friend, the magister was doing just as Hadiden thought he would; he was going to degrade him, call him a knife ear, possibly get guards to chain him, sell him as a slave in Tevinter. Of course, if they tried that, Hadiden would actually have to cut their throats.

But Felix stepped forward, finally, placing a hand on his father's shoulder.

"Father, calm down. He knows everything," the magister's son said. The magister looked bewildered, stepping away from his son. Alexius looked at the elf then back to his son.

Hadiden heard the dropping of metal, turning to see the guards falling. Behind the fallen guards, lurking in the shadows stood the scouts Leliana sent. A moment of relief passed through the elf. Everything was going to plan. Now what was left was Dorian and getting the magister out of Redcliffe. 

"Alexius, your guards are dead. There's nothing to do now. Give the Herald the mages and just... return to Tevinter."

All the living in the room looked to the shadows, hearing the voice of Dorian. Hadiden felt more peace that the mage had lived up to what he had said.

_"Don't worry, Lavellan. Everything will go smoothly with Alexius," Dorian said, smiling. Hadiden wanted to punch him in the teeth._

_"Don't call me Lavellan," Hadiden started. It sounded too bitter for his personality and sighed. "You can call me Hadiden. I'm not fond of being called by my surname. It reminds me of my clan." Hadiden felt his cheeks heat up. He didn't mean to admit anything about his clan to Dorian._

_But the Tevinter blinked, taken back a bit. "My apologises, Hadiden."_

_"Don't worry about it, Pavus. Come now, we have to plan for our attack on Redcliffe," Hadiden said, a playful smirk playing on his lips. His stomach filled with butterflies when Dorian laughed. "Very funny, very funny indeed. Let's go then."_

"Dorian," the magister almost whispered. The man's features fell, and Hadiden felt a little guilty. Two people close to Alexius were betraying him. Hadiden hoped that never happened to him.

Dorian stepped out of the shadows, his frown making Hadiden fell worse. Why were they all so sad? This man was part of a radical group trying to kill one man!

"Alexius, whatever this is, this is not what we talked about. Joining a group trying to do Maker knows what? I believed you were better than that! Please, just stop whatever you're doing and-" 

"Enough!" Alexius shouted. The throne room felt chilled, like it was in Haven, deep in the snow. Hadiden looked back at Cassandra and Varric, hoping they could feel the chills too, but quickly looked back at the furious magister.

"You come into my castle, threaten me, turn my son and former apprentice against me, and expect to walk away free?" Alexius reached into his pocket. The Dalish couldn't see exactly what it was, but it looked smooth. "You are a mistake, elf. What you are doing now, trying to claim support to close something you don't understand, is all a mistake. You bare a mark meant for a greater purpose. A mark you stole! I will do as I was asked and make it so you never made that mistake." Alexius turned the object over before smirking, flashing a horrifying grin. 

"Or," he said. "I will erase you from existing in time all together."

Hadiden's eyes widen, taking a step back. He watched in horror as the magister threw up the object, a square pendant that was glowing a green similar to the mark, and spun in a circle. The pendant started to glow, giving off electric energy, like lightning, that Hadiden could taste. The elf felt petrified by the idea of being erased, but couldn't move. He had to-

"No!" Dorian shouted, sending some kind of spirit energy from his staff to the pendant. The necklace made a sound, like thunder roaring, and flashed white. Hadiden was far too focused on the glowing object to notice Dorian standing in front of him, to see Alexius fiddling with the pendant. He didn't realize the magic in the square hit him until his sight was taken, only being able to hear shouts and ringing.

 

Everything was wet, cold, and spinning. Hadiden didn't remember the castle being wet. Why was he in water?

"... Elder One!" Someone shouted. Who was talking?

"Hadiden, get up!" Wasn't that the voice of the Tevinter... Dorian, wasn't it?

The Dalish pulled himself to his feet and pulled out his hunting knife, realizing the danger of the situation when his eyes finally focused. Two Tevinter guards were armed, trying to attack Dorian. Much like in the Chantry, Dorian was dancing around them with his staff, actually hitting them with the wooden stick. By taking a moment to focus on one of the guards, Hadiden could see the smallest crack between armor and skin, aimed for it, and threw his knife. With all his Dalish training, the knife hit bullseye, and one of the guards went falling. Hadiden smirked as Dorian placed a hand on the other guard's chest, sent lightning shocks all through his body, and killed him. Dorian seemed pleased as well.

"And here I thought you'd never get back up. Are you all right?" Dorian said, moving closer to the elf. Hadiden backed up, nodding. 

"I'm fine. What is not fine is the fact that I have no idea where we are and why am I standing in water that is half way up my leg." Hadiden moved around Dorian, finding the hilt of his knife poking up through the water. With a small tug, the object freed itself from flesh. 

Hadiden could hear muttering before the Tevinter said, "ah ha! It's not where!"

"Then what is it?"

"It's when! Alexius didn't send us some where new, but rather, he sent us to another time. I'm guessing when we started bombarding him with accusations and ruining his plan, he panicked. It probably didn't help that I tried to counter the spell he was using before he could actually cast his spell." Dorian was beaming with pride, as though his explanation informed Hadiden of what happened. Was this how all mages talked? Because that seemed the case, since Solas was just as confusing and so was Vivienne. 

Hadiden sighed. "Thank you, Dorian. That explains everything. But are we able to get back to... to where ever we once was?" The elf wiped the blood off his knife on his leg, making Dorian roll his eyes. 

"I might. I would need the amulet that Alexius had, if such thing still exists." 

Hadiden was about to demand he fix it, to send them to their time, but stopped when Dorian continued to speak.

"But... just don't panic," the Tevinter said, rubbing the back of his neck before looking at Hadiden. "Whether it exists or not, I will get us back to our placement in time. I promise. And don't worry, I'm here. I will protect you."

The Dalish felt his heart stop, his cheeks flushing, the tips of his ears burning up. 

_I'm here. I will protect you._

Everything in Hadiden's mind was telling him no; _No, don't do it. He doesn't actually care about you. He only wants to protect you because you're the Herald. He's doing this because he has to. He doesn't-_

"Stay close to me, Hadiden. I'll make sure you're safe." Dorian smiled and searched one of the guards, pulling off a key. 

Hadiden had never wanted to scream for no reason more than he did now. This man knew he was torturing him. He had to know.

 

Castle Redcliffe was sick. Every crack and corner was spewing red lyrium. Every time Hadiden walked near it, he could feel the energy off of it. It felt sick. He didn't know how he knew, much like how he never knew how he could tell a halla was ill, but he knew it. And it felt evil, like something twisted was deep in its core and threatened to consume anything and everything healthy. Hadiden didn't want to be near the stuff, but the whole place was decorated with it. 

Dorian was interested in it though, asking questions left and right. "Why do you think it's growing from the walls? Is it alive? I can feel it. What makes it different from regular lyrium? Have you seen regular lyrium before, Hadiden? Where else do you think it can grow from?"

Hadiden tuned most of the questions out. He knew none of the answers.

What more was that when Hadiden passed a man he had met in Redcliffe, had talked about the magister in the castle, he didn't know who he was. He was reciting something.

"The Chant, I presume," Dorian said. "I don't know why he doesn't recognize you, but it has to be caused by the red lyrium."

Hadiden frowned. "Ir abelas, da'len. May Falon'din guide you," he said. When he looked at Dorian, the man looked as sad as the elf felt.

"What did you say?" Dorian asked before adding, "I don't know the elvish language, so if it seems rude by my asking-"

"I apologized and asked that one of the Creators guide him into Uthenera." Hadiden figured that that explained it but realized he used more elvish to explain his prayer. The elf started laughing before saying, "my apologises, I used more elvish. I asked for Falon'din to guide him into the Long Sleep. It's like when you shemlan... I mean humans, pray to your Maker for the dead to join him at his side." 

Dorian nodded. "Interesting. Can you say it again? The elvish prayer?"

"It's not really a prayer. But, if you would like." Hadiden looked at Dorian, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Ir abelas, da'len. May Falon'din guide you." 

"Elvish is a lovely language. Your pronunciation is lovely too, might I add." The Tevinter was smirking. Hadiden coughed, embarrassed. Damn this shemlan.

"Let's keep moving," the Dalish said. 

 

Nightmare Redcliffe got worse as Hadiden adventured through it. There was more red lyrium, more water, and guards. Guards that caused him to nearly get Dorian killed.

The two men walked up a set of stairs and were met with two Venatori guards. The guards drew their weapons and shouted, "catch them! Don't let them escape! The Elder One demands the elf's blood!"

Hadiden quickly grabbed his bow and notched arrows, ignoring Dorian for the most part. He figured he didn't need to order Dorian around, thought the man could handle his own. At first, he thought that. The mage had gotten a force field up around the elf, trying to make cover for him as he tried to pierce armor with arrows. Hadiden was trying to take a little more time than usual, a mistake. All he was doing was waiting for a chance to hit skin instead of iron, but mostly he hit the protective gear. 

"Gaah!" Hadiden heard. His focus was shifted to see the Tevinter on the ground, bleeding. The gravity of the situation hit Hadiden in a rush; Dorian had started fighting too close with the one of guards and was being hurt by the sword! The Dalish should have known. He was a mage! He wasn't well protected like the elf. Hadiden should have been up there and protecting him-

The Venatori guard raised his sword above his head, shouting something that the elf didn't hear. All the blood was rushing to Hadiden's head in a rush of fury and fear. The guard was going to kill Dorian, to kill his only chance of fixing whatever Alexius had messed up. He couldn't... 

_Don't do it. Don't-_

Hadiden dropped his bow. For the first time since the Breach, Hadiden tried to use his magic on purpose. He tried to focus, find whatever lyrium was in his blood, use it in the physical world, and to _freeze_ the guard. He didn't care how long guard was frozen, he needed at least ten seconds, maybe five. The other guard was already down, an arrow pointing out of his neck, so Hadiden didn't need to worry about him. He needed to freeze the one over Dorian.

When Hadiden attempted what he thought would be a freezing spell, the guard was hit with a stone fist, sending him back. While the stone boulder (it looked like a ball, not a fist) wasn't very big, nor very powerful, it made the Venatori stumble and trip. While it wasn't what Hadiden had planned, it gave him time to reach for his hunting knife and pin the guard, shoving the dagger through the man's chest. 

_May the Dread Wolf have mercy on you, for I will not._

For good measure, the elf yanked the knife out of the Venatori's chest and took the helmet off, stabbing the blade through his head. He watched the eyes of the man flicker before losing the life locked in them. Only for a moment did Hadiden feel bad for taking the man's life. When he pulled the knife free, blood was dripping from it, getting on Hadiden's armor. The elf felt tired, not used to being so aggressive or using his magic like he had done. Even when he needed it most, it didn't even work correctly. He never wanted to have to use his curse again.

It was when Hadiden heard wet coughing that he realized Dorian was still hurt. With the speed of light, Hadiden placed his hunting knife in its holster and crawled over to the mage. He was bloody, obviously cuts on his shoulders and arms. He had gotten hit in the head since there was blood dripping from the left side of his face. Dorian was also holding his right side, so something must have been wrong. The elf felt nauseous and scared. He couldn't let Dorian die.

With a bit of reluctance, Hadiden moved Dorian's hands from his side, ignoring the pained objection, and placed his hands over the bloodied area. The Dalish closed his eyes, something he had very little practice doing. He had had to use healing magic a few times from hunting. He had gotten hurt, falling out of a tree once, and then a surprise attack from a wolf two different times. He had practiced a bit of healing only to keep himself alive when in an emergency.

This was an emergency.

The Dalish kept his eyes closed as he focused on the energy, on the feeling of closing the wound. Hadiden could feel the tingle of lyrium again, how it felt like untamed lightning, tasted like iron, and made Hadiden's stomach turn over itself. He willed what lyrium he could in his body to flow through his hands to close the wound on Dorian. When he could no longer sense the open wound, he shifted his attention to the second worse wound; the opening on his head. That gushing cut was almost impossible for Hadiden to heal. He wasn't strong, wasn't trained, and barely was able to cast the right spell when he needed to, but had to now. It took up all of his energy to help up the wound on his head. When Dorian was healed as best as Hadiden could manage, the elf reached into his pouch to pull out a minor injury kit for the small cuts that wouldn't kill Dorian. Inside the kit was an eflroot potion, a small one. It wouldn't have healed the major bleeding, but Hadiden knew it would help. 

When he looked up to tell the Tevinter to drink the potion, sky blue eyes met wide, surprised stormy ones. 

"Maker, you're a ma-"

"Shut up," Hadiden said, bitter and cold. "I am not. I am a Dalish hunter."

Dorian shook his head, taking the potion before saying, "but what just happened, that wasn't me. You are a-"

"Dorian, shut up! I am not that, nor will I ever be. Drink the damn thing so we can continue going." Hadiden's throat felt dry, his eyes slightly stinging. He wanted to be angry, to punch the man if he tried to say it again. 

It took a few moments before Dorian was able to get up without the elf's help. As the elf went to grab his bow, retrieving some of his arrows, he heard Dorian ask, "why are you pretending to be something you're not? What does that accomplish?"

Hadiden rolled his eyes before looking at the mage. "I have my reasons, Tevinter.," he spat. When Dorian looked wounded, emotionally, Hadiden sighed and said, "it doesn't matter. Please don't tell anyone, for the love of the Creators I don't need anyone else finding out any more. And stay by me. We can... I don't know but we will protect each other so neither of us nearly get killed."

Dorian nodded, frowning. Hadiden figured it was because he wanted to know more, but the elf refused. He wasn't a mage. He was a Dalish hunter.

When Dorian was steady, and Hadiden wasn't dizzy, the two men continued in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really wanted this to be one whole chapter, but that isn't the case. So this whole "guest" is going to be close to two chapters.  
> I wish I had the "chapter of a chapter" button cause this isnt the whole thing.
> 
> But here it is. I'm working my ass to update because I'm getting to some good stuff.
> 
> Least in my head it's good.


	9. Budding Friendship

The tight pulling of a string right before it snaps. The moment when the strings, the fibers holding it together, start to pull apart and finally _snaps_. That's how tightly Hadiden's emotions felt in Redcliffe. He had to leave Grand Enchanter Fiona, leave her attached (was attached the right word?) to the red lyrium that was growing from the wall. When they walked away, Dorian was muttering until Hadiden spoke up.

_"What are you going on about, Tevinter?" Hadiden felt like his heart was stabbed. It felt so wrong to leave Fiona._

__Dorian had sighed. "If you didn't realize, or hear the Grand Enchanter, it's been a year. You have been gone a whole year. Think about it, Hadiden; without you, this is going to happen and whatever else has happened outside this castle. Who ever this Elder one is, he really wants you out of the way, or didn't plan for you to be at the Temple." The man stopped a moment before looking at the elf. "I need to get you back. You need to stop this, all of it, from happening."_ _

__"I won't leave you here. You don't deserve to live through this. I will fix this," Hadiden had said. He didn't want Dorian to sacrifice himself to get Hadiden to the right time. He wanted the both of them to get out of the nightmare and to fix things together. They both knew the risks, knew what would happen if the Elder One prevailed._ _

What hurt Hadiden more was seeing how sick Cassandra and Varric were. The elf could see the red lyrium in the whites of their eyes, lighting up their veins, changing their voices. They sounded as though they were losing their voices yet kept speaking at a normal volume. They were dying, dying slowly, and Hadiden couldn't save them. 

Leliana had been the worse to find. She was being tortured, beaten, and interrogated about Hadiden's whereabouts. When the elf had found her, the look of surprise on her face only lasted a second before she choked her tortured. As he got closer to her, to get her down from her chains, the bard looked like a skeleton. She was pale, cheeks shallow where they should have been full, and was as thin as a real skeleton. When he tried to reassure her that he would fix it, she spat at him. 

"And everyone wants to know why we fear mages. They have the power to do this." Hadiden felt a lump in his throat. If only she knew. 

And it felt like the nightmare would never end. They faced Venatori guards tainted with red lyrium, Fade rifts, and demons. Dorian wanted to stop and collect shards of the dangerous rock. Hadiden told him no, but the mage insisted. Somehow, they ended up being important when they needed to get into the Main Hall. It was without saying that Dorian was proud of himself yet greatly disappointed because he wanted to study the shards. 

In the Main Hall stood Alexius. The magister was alone, staring deep into the fire. Hadiden wondered if the man could see shapes and animals in the flames, much like he did. The elf signaled for his small party to stay quiet as they approached. 

"This is it then, Alexius? No guards, no fighting? Nothing? You're just here, alone?" Hadiden asked, his anger starting to bobble in his stomach. He wanted to go home. 

The magister didn't turn around. "What's the point? I knew you would appear again... Not that I knew it would be now, but I knew. It would be ironic that you appear now of all times." Alexius turned finally, looking as though he was aged a hundred years. Hadiden didn't know if he wanted to continue to be angry with the man or not. The elf sighed. 

"Just give up then. It's not use in continuing this. Send us back." When the magister shook his head, Hadiden felt his stomach drop. What if he still wanted to erase him from time? 

"The Elder One-" Alexius started before stopping, looking towards a man in yellow robes. Leliana had the man in a choke hold, a knife pressing against the skin of his throat, right below his Adam's apple. The robes looked familiar, but the man was as pale and sick looking as Leliana. His cheeks were sunken in, the area around his eyes was dark, like black ink was right under the skin. The man made no wailing noises, no sounds of distress. He was limp in Leliana's arms. 

The man looked like- 

"Felix?!" Dorian stepped forward, distressed. Felix was the sickly man in Leliana's amrs. Hadiden looked at Dorian. He was frowning, staring at his friend (They were friends, weren't they? They had both planned to stop Alexius together). 

Alexius was just as shocked and distressed as Dorian sounded. He tried to step closer to Felix, but Leliana started to add pressure to the knife, making the magister stop. "Please," he said. "Please, I'll do whatever you want. Just let go of my son." 

Maybe it was something innate in Hadiden, something that yanked at his heart strings, but the elf said, "Leliana, let Felix go." Maybe he seen his father up there, begging for Hadiden to be freed. Maybe it was the elf missing his family, but Hadiden didn't want to kill Felix. Felix didn't deserve to just be killed. 

But Leliana had no such feelings it seemed because she growled, "I want the world back," and cut Felix's throat. Hadiden watched in horror as the man's throat gushed blood, as his body fell limp to the ground, as Alexius shouted for his son, making the fire explode. Hadiden watched as the magister turned to him, fire in his eyes as he shouted something unintelligent and summoned a rift. 

It seemed that Alexius wanted a fight after all. 

The future Alexius hadn't survived the fight. When it was over, Hadiden watched as Dorian knelt down to his former mentor, closed his eyes, and sighed. 

"All he was trying to do was save Felix, but he failed to see he was too far gone," Dorian said, not looking away from the dead man. 

Hadiden worried his lip. "This Alexius was too far gone. Maybe, if we get back, we can save the one in our time." The Dalish watched Dorian nod before patting the body down, feeling for the amulet. Once found, Dorian held it to the flame light to look it over. 

"It looks exactly like the one we designed in Tevinter. Now, give me an hour or two-" 

Dorian was stopped when Leliana interrupted with, "an hour? That's impossible! You two need to get out of here now!" 

Hadiden looked at Cassandra and Varric, both of them looking like dead men walking. "Varric? Cassandra? Why can't we take an hour?" 

"Listen, Hadi. Things are mess up, you've seen a bit of it. But Alexius... He wasn't waiting around for nothing. The Elder One's army is marching here now. He already took Orlais, assassinated Empress Celene, turned the country into a civil war. He won't stop, and since he's coming here with his fancy demon army, you and the Tevinter need to go, now." Varric frowned, sighing. "I'm sorry kid." 

Cassandra nodded. "It is as the dwarf says. We are dead men now. We don't have much longer to live. If you can get out of here, you need to do it now. Varric and I will hold them off once they're here." 

Hadiden swallowed. "No. No, I refuse. You two will not commit suicide to save me-" 

"You do not get to make that decision, Hadiden. This is something we must do if you are to make it back," Cassandra said before looking at Varric. The two of them turned without another word, making towards the giant wooden doors. Hadiden felt the stinging of tears. Quickly, he turned to look at the arguing Leliana and Dorian. 

"... must get the spelling running! I will be the last line of defense if they break past Varric and Cassandra." Leliana was already notching an arrow. Dorian looked at the elf, and for a minute, Hadiden thought he could see the same amount of sorrow as felt in Dorian's eyes. 

"Let's try this then. Come on, Hadiden," Dorian said. 

Something Hadiden would never forget; the Elder One's army marching into the Main Hall. 

Screeching demons marching, screaming as they busted the door down. Beyond green surrounded the creatures as they stormed in. Subconsciously, Hadiden pulled out his bow, ready to defend the mage behind him as said mage worked to send them back in time. The elf had to watch the lifeless bodies of Cassandra and Varric as they were flung to the side, making Hadiden want to scream. His friends the two people he never thought he would care about until recently, were thrown like sand bags. Hadiden wanted to send an arrow right through the demon's eye. 

The Dalish had to stand there and watch as Leliana sent arrow after arrow through the beasts, only being bested when one of their arrows went through her shoulder. The arrow in her shoulder didn't stop her from fighting, from dancing with her bow around the creatures. She was using herself as a distraction so that the demons wouldn't break pass her to attack Dorian and Hadiden. The elf watched in horror as the demons started to surround her. He started to move forward, trying to pull an arrow for his bow, but the mage grabbed his hand. The Dalish looked at the Tevinter, his grey eyes screaming with fear. He was panicking, trying to get a spell he had never cast to work. Over the screeching of the demons, Hadiden heard Dorian shout, "If you move, we will all die!" With great reluctance, Hadiden stepped back towards Dorian, his bow still at the ready. 

_I will defend him._

Dorian cut it close, to the point where the demons were bored with the newly lifeless Leliana and started marching towards them. Hadiden had turned to look at Dorian, asking if he was done yet, but the mage hadn't said anything until a white whirling vortex was behind him, mixing with the lightning green of the amulet. The Tevinter grabbed Hadiden's hand, holding it tightly. 

"Come on!" He shouted. Hadiden held onto Dorian's hand with both of his hands, not wanting to lose him. He had his doubts about time travel and feared losing the Tevinter on their way back. 

Without anymore hesitations, Dorian and Hadiden jumped through the portal. Hadiden didn't know how long it felt like he was falling, spinning through open space. He hated the feeling, needing to plant his feet somewhere. But, somewhere in the back of the elf's mind, he could still feel the weight of Dorian's hand in his. That small ounce of reality kept Hadiden sane, kept him from panicking as they were thrown through time and back to where they had been. 

When Hadiden could see again, feel the physical world, he lost the feeling of Dorian's hand in his. at first, panic found itself deep in Hadiden's stomach. For a moment, he believed that he had lost Dorian, lost him in some point of time and was stranded in some other time. But with a look around the room, seeing the living Cassandra and Varric, the still alive Felix and Alexius, Hadiden knew he made it back to the right time. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Dorian. Even though he looked pale, as though he was going to be sick, he was there. 

They made it. 

With a new found confidence, Hadiden looked at the living Alexius. "Your plan failed, Alexius. Surrender now." He felt no fear for he had seen what would come if he backed down now. Alexius had to be stopped. 

The magister fell to his knees, and quickly, Inquisition scouts chained his hands behind his back, ready to be taken as a prisoner. The man looked to his son. "Felix..." was all that left his lips. Hadiden watched as the young man knelt down to his father, smiling. The smile was sad, forgiving. "Don't worry, Father. I will be fine." When Alexius tried to add something, Felix shook his head. "I've accpeted it, Father. Do not worry for me." 

As the Inquisition soldiers took Alexius, going back throuhg the secret tunnels, Fereldan soldiers marched into the Main Hall. Hadiden felt his stomach drop as the army marched into the room, lining against the wall. He had done everything to prevent an army coming after him! At least it wasn't the Elder One. 

From what Hadiden could tell, the man walking in was important. The elf looked back at the Seeker, seeing the horror on her face. Hadiden turned back to look at the man. He was wearing brown armor, a crown circling his head, and looked aged beyond his years. Hadiden couldn't tell him the man was older or younger than himself. 

But for a moment, when the man was close enough, he stopped. It was sudden, but the man looked young with a look of surprise and sorrow on his face. He was staring right at Hadiden, which made the elf's ear heat up. Why was this man staring at him? 

Hadiden didn't hear the first part of the man's words, but he heard a soft, "Mahariel?" 

Hadiden didn't know the name, not personally, but he knew it was Dalish. He had heard the adults in his clan mumble the name about a decade ago, saying that a young Dalish from clan Sabrae had saved Fereldan from the Fifth Blight. Hadiden had been some what jealous of the man, not ever meeting him, but jealous he was doing the People a great honor. And here he was, leading religious shemlan that should be mocking him like he was told they would, hiding his magic, and fighting against some evil creature that wanted him dead. He was a shame to the Dalish. 

Despite the blush on the elf's face, Hadiden shook his head. 

"I'm not Mahariel. My name is Hadiden Lavellan, and I am with the Inquisition." The man looked disappointed that Hadiden wasn't Mahariel. 

"My apologies, Lavellan. You just... It must be the vallaslin that reminded me of my friend," the man said. His sad features didn't change, even after the realization that the elf wasn't the Hero of Fereldan. 

"King Alistair-" Cassandra started, but the King in question just raised his hand, stopping her. 

"Despite who I thought you were, someone needs to answer for what is happening here. Bann Teagan has been thrown out of his own castle, the village is over run with mages, and the villagers are living in fear." King Alistair looked at Hadiden. Hadiden stepped forward. 

"King Alistair, there was a magister here, and he was sheltering the mages to be used-" Hadiden stopped, realizing that the King didn't care. 

Alistair stared at Hadiden. Was he trying to believe that the elf wasn't the one he knew? "I don't care as to why it happened. What needs to happen is someone has to pay for what is done. And the only thing that the people of Redcliffe want is the mages gone. While I hate to do it, I have to exile them out of Redcliffe." 

Grand Enchanter Fiona rushed up to Hadiden's side. The Dalish looked at her. She was pale, her eyes darting at the Dalish and the King. "You can't do that, your Highness! My people, they have no where to go! We have children and the elderly-" 

"I'm sorry, Grand Enchanter. But-" 

As offensive as it was, Hadiden cut into the King's sentence and said, "I think, if the mages are willing, then the Inquisition can take them in. We are still in need of an alliance for closing the Breach. You would still be exiled, but you would be protected and treated as allies." 

Fiona looked at Hadiden, then turned her focus to the King, as if waiting for his approval. "A generous offer. Grand Enchanter, I do believe that that is a solution to your problem. Just... please leave Redcliffe. The people are frightened now and it would be best for the mages' safety." 

With a bit of hesitation, Fiona nodded and said, "then we accept. We would be fools to turn this offer away." 

Hadiden turned to look at Cassandra, whom was shaking her head. Varric was looking away, avoiding eye contact. And Dorian... 

Dorian was gone. 

"Ir abela, Dorian. I'm sorry for my reaction in Redcliffe." 

After regrouping with his advisors about the mages, hearing of the complaints of the new alliance from everyone besides Solas, Varric, Leliana, and Josephine, Hadiden decided to go find the Tevinter mage. Said mage was standing outside apothecary Adan's hut, just waiting in the snow. 

"Are you still curious?" Hadiden asked the man as he walked up to the other. 

The mage looked confused for a moment, obviously realizing what Hadiden meant after a second or two. The fact that Dorian relaxed made Hadiden tense up. _He's going to ask me questions now, isn't he?_

"I'd like to say I understand your reasoning for being defensive, but I honestly don't understand. I was born and raised in Tevinter, so the idea of hiding ma-" 

"Don't say it out loud!" Hadiden interrupted. His cheeks were going red, he could feel the hear raising in them. Damn this mage! "I... I rather not speak of it in public, or out in the open like this. You obviously have questions so... let's just go to my quarters to discuss this." 

Dorian nodded and both the elf and Tevinter marched through the snow to where the elf resided. The look on Solas' face as the two passed by was some what funny to Hadiden. He almlost looked offended that the Dalish would offer the Tevinter to go to his quarters. Hadiden wanted to tell the older elf that the mage had accidentally found out about his curse and was going to explain it, that Dorian didn't mean any harm. 

When both men were in the small hut, the nicest one that Josephine could give the Herald of Andraste, the door was closed and silence fell between them. Hadiden didn't like the uncomfortable atmosphere forming in the room. But Dorian managed to lift the awkwardness, restarting the fire in the hearth and turning to the elf, smiling. It was an easy smile, like he had done a similar thing before in his life. For the first time, Hadiden relaxed a little. He didn't like feeling relaxed, feeling to vulnerable to his emotions and magic. The last time... 

"Much nicer than my own quarters, might I say. You ambassador quickly shoved me into a dingy room. But, I assume that your room is much nicer because you're the Herald." Dorian sat down on Hadiden's bed, still smiling. The elf switched the weight between his feet, sighing. Was Dorian trying to be distracting? 

"I suppose so. But if I remember, you have questions about me," Hadiden said, crossing his arms across his chest. 

The Tevinter rolled his head from side to side, humming quietly. Hadiden was curious as to what he would ask first. Would he want to know why? For how long? Those were similar to what Solas had wanted to know. Maybe Dorian wanted to know if magic ran in his family. 

But Dorian just looked at Hadiden and asked, "was it caused by the Breach of have you always had it?" Dorian avoided saying magic, which made Hadiden more comfortable. He didn't know why it was comforting to know that the Tevinter man was respecting his wish. 

"No, the Breach didn't cause me to be... that," Hadiden started, glancing at the floor before looking at Dorian. "It surfaced when I was about seven, about twenty years ago. It's not something new or strange. I've always had this." 

Dorian looked horrified, his brow knitting together as he stared at the elf. 

" _Twenty years?_ How in Andraste's name have you kept it a secret this long? How have you not turned into an abomination?" The Tevinter rose from his spot on the bed, looking as though he may start pacing. He was slightly pale, life it was unbelievable that Hadiden had stayed hidden for so long. 

"I refused to admit I was _that_. When I was old enough, I would go hunting alone, staying away from my clan. And it's not like I haven't been tempted by demons," Hadiden sighed. "Demons tempt me a lot. But the thingis, fear is a very powerful weapon. Why you're so afraid of yourself and what you could become, you use it as a weapon against demons. I didn't take offers because of my own fears." Hadiden fell silent. It felt weird talking to Dorian about his magic, about his fear, but it felt... okay. Dorian hadn't forced him to talk about it, like Solas had. And Dorian hadn't just brushed it off, like Varric. Dorian had been curious but respected the boundaries that Hadiden had made. He waited. 

"I don't understand. You're Dalish, aren't you?" Dorian asked, and continued when Hadiden nodded. "Don't the Dalish honor their mages?" 

Hadiden shook his head. "My clan already had three mages. Another could be been considered dangerous. I kept quiet, kept away, and tried to keep my clan safe. That was, and still is, my job." 

The mage sighed. "I still don't understand the shame in it." 

"The shame is that I have gone my whole life thinking... thinking..." Hadiden growled, his blood starting to rise. He was going to rant. He knew it. He didn't understand because he was _Tevinter_. 

"I've been thinking my whole life that I am wrong, that what is beating in my heart, coursing through my fucking veins, is wrong. I was told I would be sent away if my clan found out, sent to the shemlan Circle or sent to a clan I didn't know. I would be separated from all that I knew. I was a child, a child. And... and I was told what they do in Kirkwall to mages, that it would likely happen to my because I was a mage and an elf. What do you think it does to a child to hear that he could be a fucking tranquil because of his ears and curse? 

"I have spent my whole life telling myself that I am a mistake, that the taint in my body is a curse. I wasn't born a privileged magister's son. I didn't get to hear that I was a gift or doing a great honor to my family. I was never told I would be okay and that it was normal. My father made me feel like something was wrong with me. My mother grew sadder and older by protecting my. Tell my again how you don't understand, Dorian. Tell me again because you will never understand what it is like to have your family, everything you've ever known, shun you out and leave you broken because you were born different." 

Hadiden felt like a volcano, erupting with lava and fire. He spilled everything he had been keeping inside for so long; so much anger and fear all wrapped into one. He was surprised that tears hadn't spilled yet. 

Yet, instead of being angry like the Dalish, Dorian was staring at the ground, like something Hadiden had said hit a sore spot. 

The Tevinter man rose from his spot before looking at the elf, smiling. Hadiden wanted to punch the smile from his face. This was serious and he was probably going to joke. 

"Oh, how I would love to prove you wrong, but now is not the time to bring my own past into the mix. And you're right; I will never understand what it's like to feel embarrassed or ashamed by the gift I possess. I was praised for it. But I have been where you are, just on very different matters." 

Dorian looked towards the door and walked towards it, placing his hand on the handle and stopping. 

"Do try and find me again sometime, Hadiden," Dorian called over his shoulder. "I would love to continue this and not step on anymore sore spots." 

That night, Hadiden had skipped dinner and went to sleep. He didn't want to speak with anyone, mainly Dorian and Varric. 

And what better place to avoid the real world than the Beyond? 

Hadiden found himself in Haven's Chantry, in the war room where he had made plans so many times with his advisors and Cassandra. The map was stained, daggers pointing out where Cullen had stabbed it. He wondered why the commander did that, but recently, Hadiden wanted to do the same. 

Hadiden grabbed one of the daggers and flipped it, catching the sharp object by the hilt. Hadiden only did the trick a few times, not wanting to injure himself while in the Beyond. The sound of tapping resonated through the room when the elf was finished flipping the dagger. 

"Desire, I know it is you. You don't scare me anymore. I expect you now." Hadiden didn't turn to look at the demon. Their relationship had moved beyond the one most people have. Typically, when one visited the dream world, they would cower from the demons or fight them. Yet, Hadiden had friended the creature. 

"You'd be surprised, dear Dalish, just how frightening I can be," the demon said, not in his usual Kirkwall accent. This accent sounded rich, as though his words were being lined with silk or gold. 

It sounded familiar... 

This made the elf turn around, to face a familiar face. 

Desire had taken a new form, no longer being the imagined figure that Hadiden wanted as a child. He no longer had the pointed ears of an elf, the long dark hair, or the slim figure. No, this time, he appeared in the shape of Dorian Pavus. The detail was near perfect. The mustache was curved like Hadiden remembered, still curious about how it stayed in that shape. Desire had a mole under his right eye, right where Dorian's beauty mark was. And the demon was no longer just a slim build, but sported the same muscular build that Dorian had. The only difference between the real Dorian and Desire was the eyes. Desire had golden cat eyes. They were enchanting in their own way, but they weren't the stormy grey that Dorian had. 

The Dalish crossed his arms across his chest, glaring at the creature. "Why," he started. "Why do you look like that, Desire? Is this a new joke?" 

The abomination laughed. "Quite simply, I reached into your mind and pulled out what you desired. You no longer wish to see me in my former form, but rather, you desire this man. Fetching, isn't he? I swear I have seen him myself, but I grew bored with him never taking an offer. Tevinter, correct?" The Desire Dorian smirked, making the elf's heart stutter. He hated that smile in the waking world and hated it twice as much in the Beyond. 

"But, there is a purpose for my presence, besides the usual temptation," Desire said, stepping closer to Hadiden. Hadiden didn't flinch, didn't back away. "I traveled to view the Breach myself. I was curious, as most demons are, but I figured if I made it through, I would just pester you while you were awake. Instead, I stumbled upon an even more curious sight. Well, I did not get to see it, but I could hear someone, someone with a darkness that I could feel. It's rare for a demon to feel something, so there was some concern to this. But I heard plotting." 

Hadiden frowned. "Plotting? What kind of plotting?" 

Desire shook his head. "That, I didn't hear. What I did catch was the word Dalish and something along the lines of someone is coming to kill you. It might have been near an open rift, not the Breach, but someone wants you dead, and soon." 

Hadiden could feel the blood draining from his face. This couldn't be good. 

"But I arrested Alexius. He can't kill me now. The only one who-" The elf stopped, realizing that what Desire had heard was possibly the real one who wanted him dead. 

"Desire," the Dalish said. "Do you know when this evil plans to attack and try to kill me?" 

"I can't say, Hidden Mage. I do not have a concept of time for your world, but I grasped the feeling that the speaker wants to find and eliminate you soon." Desire rolled his head to the side, no longer smiling. "I would be careful if I were you. What is coming is much worse than you can imagine. I wouldn't want my favorite play thing to be killed." 

Despite the weird dream with Desire the night before, Hadiden had handled the meeting in the morning quite well. He was able to convince Cullen to rally the mages and have them ready tomorrow morning. Hadiden wanted the mages to prepare so that tomorrow they could leave for the Temple of Sacred Ashes. 

Plus, Hadiden needed to day to prepare himself. 

He spent the morning talking with Varric, explaining a few things. He told the dwarf a few secrets, less detailed fears, and the dwarf nodded and understood. Hadiden felt better with that no longer weighing on him. 

An hour before breakfast, Hadiden had sought Sera and took her into the woods. He decided to go practice with her out by the logging stand that he and a few scouts had found. To be honest, Hadiden had some fun practicing his archery. Sera made it into a game, seeing who could hit the tagerts the cleanest. Surprising, Hadiden won. When Sera accepted the defeat, he showed the city elf a few things that could help improve her archery. When asked how he learned it, Hadiden was honest and told her that his mother had taught him. 

After breakfast, Hadiden agreeded to watch Cassandra and Bull practice. The two warriors wanted imput on their stances and other warriors things that went over Hadiden's head. For the most part, the advice that Hadiden gave was to not put so much thought into their movements, but rather feel how the enemy is moving and move against them. That's how Hadiden fought, but it was much easier with arrows that swords. 

Not long after that, Solas asked Hadiden to deliever a book to Vivienne. The former Enchanter was thrilled with the tome and thanked Hadiden. 

By lunch, no one else needed Hadiden. Without further delays, Hadiden went searching for a specific Tevinter mage. 

Said mage was out by the frozen lake, sitting on the dock. As the Dalish approached, he could see that the mage was fiddling with something. Hadiden walked up behind he man and looked over his shoulder, seeing the object was the amulet from Redcliffe. 

"Fancy thing, isn't it? Didn't want to part with it?" Hadiden asked, moving to sit down beside Dorian. There was very little space between them, but Hadiden told himself to relax, that they were simply talking. He would be fine. 

Dorian didn't look at the elf. "Yes and no. I don't fancy the thing, much less like it. The blasted thing nearly got you and me killed. But that's a bit of sentiment attached to it that I don't think I can bare to get rid of." 

"You're the sentimental type then?" Hadiden found himself giving a smile as Dorian laughed. 

"Is that a bad thing?" The Tevinter retorted. 

"No, I just didn't expect it. I could say the same for myself." Hadiden watched as Dorian slowly shoved the amulet into a pocket before looking at the Dalish. 

"Hm? How so?" Hadiden blushed as he reached under his collar, pulling out a simple leather cord with a single bead on it. Slowly, he slipped it over his head, weary of it so it didn't snag on his ear, and held it out for Dorian to see. 

"My mother gave this to me before I left for the Conclave. She asked my father to carve a bead of a halla so she could put it on a necklace. She tanned the leather herself for me, making sure it was perfect so I could wear it all the time." Hadiden blushed as the Tevinter took the necklace, turning the bead over in his hand. 

"Why a halla? Is it a Dalish thing?" He asked, not looking up. 

"No, not really. I adore halla, as do most Dalish do. But I think she choose a halla was because of my past with them. As a child I would hide in the halla pen when playing hide-n-seek. Once when I was seventeen, I brought a wild halla back to the clan. And when I was older, any time I needed to calm down, I found myself at the halla pen, talking with the one that I brought from the wild." Hadiden smiled, remembering the halla that followed him home. "I called her Atisha, peace in elvish." 

Dorian handed back the necklace and Hadiden slipped it back on. "What was it like, growing up Dalish? Aside from that little... thing." Dorian asked, studying Hadiden's face. 

The elf clicked his tongue. "Normal, I guess? As children, we played a lot, but when we weren't allowed to play, we heard stories of the People and helped the clan. Well, helped in respect of picking cotton or fetching water or sticks. Little things to show that we would be good Dalish and respect our traditions. When we got older, those with magic would be trained as the Keeper's First or sent to another clan. Those without magic learned crafts. I think Vilon become a craftsman, making bows and weapons for the clan. But most of us are trained to be hunters. My mother and father trained me as a hunter. I apparently was the best..." 

Hadiden stopped to look at the frozen lake. He missed his family, the clan, hunting. He missed being Dalish. 

"Being a hunter was the pride of being Dalish. It was freeing, allowing you to go wonder the woods, bring back a beast you killed, and taking care of those you loved. It was tricky, because animals aren't predictable, but it was worth waiting long hours for something to appear. 

"Aside from hunting, I also had the task of trading with shemlans from time to time. I got to view small cities, usually with Tavel. I remember he had a mabari following him the whole time we were trading. We almost too the animal with us, but a little girl and her brother came running for the dog, asking if she hurt us. Tavel was upset all the way back to the clan. 

"But the worst part is the moving. We have to move so much. Shemlan fear or hate us, making it difficult to stay in one place. We can travel for weeks before setting up a new camp. But, I understand the need for it, and appreciate it. And it allowed for everywhere to feel like home, so almost everywhere in the wilderness feels like home to me." 

Hadiden smiled and looked at Dorian. He knew he didn't explain too much of Dalish life, but he talked about his Dalish life a bit. "What about Tevinter life? How is that growing up?" The elf asked, genuinely curious. 

Dorian laughed. "Not as glamorous as Dalish life it seems. It's... well, your parents wait for so long, waiting to see if your magic abilities surface. My parents never waited long because I started showing my signs around the age of four. My father showed me some tricks, just small spells, like making some snowflakes or catching a flower or leaf on fire. When I was about, mm five of six, I was sent to a Circle for proper training, under the mentorship of Alexius. 

"Alexius made sure I was taught the best. At first it was fun, learning history and new spells. Some days, when I did well, my lessons would be cut short and I could play with Felix. As I got older, the lessons became longer and stricter. Instead of playing games, I would have to study and practice, practice till perfection. Felix still tried to play. Sometimes he'd even steal sweets for me. I'd say 'don't get in trouble on my behalf,' in which he'd say, 'I like trouble.' It wasn't until I was nineteen and I was no longer an apprentice did I no longer feel too much pressure on magic. I had passed test after test with colors, which made my parents and mentor very happy. 

"But, even after the schooling, I stayed with Alexius for some time. His ideas, ideals and goals, just... how he is now is not the man I remember. He wanted to change Tevinter, just as much as I do. He saw the flaws, wanted to fix them, make Tevinter to be w beautiful country and not just the country with slaves and blood magic. He also wanted to experiment with magic, hence how we theorized time magic but never succeed with it. He was a good man. 

"As good as he was and as much as I love my home, I had to leave." It was Dorian's turn to look down at the lake, sighing. Hadiden's ears twitched down. He frowned and tried to look at Dorian's face. 

"Why did you leave?" The Dalish asked quietly, his curiously piqued. 

"Tevinter don't just want to have rich bloodlines. They want to intermarry so they can have the purest blood, the perfect mage so that the child will take their seat in the magisterium when they pass. My parents loath each other, but married so they could have the perfect heir. They were given me, the perfect mage with some unsavory flaws." The Tevinter didn't look at the Dalish, but he didn't have to. Hadiden could almost feel the sorrow on Dorian's words. There was a secret, a big one, but Dorian wasn't ready to say it out loud. It was okay, Hadiden would wait 

Instead of pressing. Hadiden said, "whatever your parents seen as flaws, they're wrong. I think you're wonderful as you are, Dorian." 

Hadiden almost regret the words. He knew what he was implying, giving a bit of a flirt. He knew how terrible this would be if it furthered, or if Dorian didn't like men. He could relive what happened with Oliver those years ago. But something in Hadiden's heart, a part the elf tried to ignore, wanted to reach out for Dorian, didn't want to let the Tevinter go. 

Dorian laughed, lifting his head to smile at the elf. Hadiden felt a blush as Dorian kept smiling. "Truly? Is the dear Herald flirting with the Tevinter Altus?" 

"The Tevinter _what_?" Hadiden raised an eyebrow, making Dorian laugh. 

"Altus. It means upperclass. Like I had said, I'm not a magister, but I am high class." 

"More like high maintenance," Hadiden snorted, making Dorian gasp. Hadiden laughed at the offended Tevinter 

"I've wounded you, that's true, and I apologize. Not fully, because it was funny and Varric would be able to use that line for his books, but I must say, I wanted to tell you something that's been weighing on me." Hadiden turned to full seriousness, grabbing Dorian's full attention. 

"I... I do not know what will happen when I close the Breach tomorrow, if I even close it. What I do know is that I want to apologize for any kind of rudeness that I've given you. You didn't deserve my anger or cold shoulder. You did save my life in Redcliffe and I owe you for getting me back here safely. What I would like is to have another try and us to be friends." Hadiden smiled, his heart fluttering as Dorian smiled back and nodded. 

"I will admit, I was wounded by the anger, but I can understand that a bit better now. Fear is a very dangerous thing, and to be holding so much in, it can't be good. But I'll put it aside, along with anything that has to do with the whole Tevinter and Dalish hatred because I too would like to be friends." 

Hadiden hummed approvingly. "I can do the same." 

Dorian was smiling, and Hadiden could swear the man was blushing too. Maybe it was his heart trying to play games, but Dorian was going to be a curse. That stupidly beautiful smile and easy laugh would have Hadiden going mad. Oh, how he wanted to shut him out, to not have a broken heart again, but _oh_ did he fancy Dorian. 

"Say," Hadiden started. "I will buy drinks tonight if you want to play Wicked Grace with me, Varric, and Sera tonight before supper. And after supper we can walk through Haven and continue to talk about how pitiful our lives our." 

Dorian placed both his hands over his heart, pretending to swoon. "My, my, Herald, you know how to charm a man. How could I refuse?" He was smiling and Hadiden laughed. 

When his small giggle fit was over, Hadiden got up from his spot, Dorian staring up at him. "I wish I could say that is the plan. But I look forward to the game tonight, Dorian." 

As Hadiden walked away, he began to realize how grave his flirting could be. All the walls he had built over the years seemed to just melt with Dorian, with his easy natural and charming smile. Hadiden feared the worst, feared that Dorian too would get so close only to call him a knife ear and run. 

But, a small part in Hadiden that had been chained and locked away for so long hoped. It hoped that Hadiden was wrong and that Dorian was safe.


	10. In Your Heart Shall Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been busy with school, but I've been looking forward to this chapter for awhile, for unspoken reasons.   
> Again, I'm sorry for the delay, and if anyone wants, I'm also working on a story for Mahariel, my warden. Thank you everyone for your patience!

The Temple of Sacred Ashes was worse than Hadiden remembered. All through the ruins still stood the lifeless burned corpses of those that showed up for the Conclave. The chilling wind from the winter morning left goosebumps on the Dalish elf. While the elf had tried to add more protection to his leather armor with shoulder plates and iron plates around his boots, he still felt as though he'd freeze up in the mountains. To say the least, he did not like the ruined Temple.

Hadiden turned around to face his inner circle and advisors behind him. "Cullen, I want you to station the mages. Put them as high as you can. Leliana, keep at least one scout between each mage. If something gets out, I want to be ready." Hadiden paused before looking to his party. "Vivienne, Dorian, I want you two up with the mages. Varric, Sera, you two will be with the scouts. Bull, Blackwall, and Cassandra will stay with Cullen and me down near the Breach. Solas, you'll be with us also. If demons some how spew out while I'm closing that thing, keep those creatures off of me so I can close the Breach." 

When everyone was positioned, Hadiden stared at the Breach. It was simple enough to say that he was afraid, doubting that he was capable of closing the thing. The first time he had tried, he passed out. Even with the mages, the elf was worried if it would be enough power to seal the tear between the Beyond and the real world. 

"Say, if this all goes well, drinks are on me." Hadiden turned to look at Dorian. The Tevinter looked worried, but he was smiling at the elf. Hadiden couldn't help but smile back. 

"Drinks and Wicked Grace? Now I'm the one swooning." Hadiden gave a forced laugh. 

"As you should be. And don't worry, Hadiden. Everything will be okay; you'll close the Breach, the sun will set, and we will play Wicked Grace and drink until dawn," Dorian said. "I have faith in you, and I'll be right by the staircase, so I'll be able to protect you if demons come out." 

"I feel protected. Now, get in place, Dorian. I just want to get this over with." Hadiden sighed, turning his attention back to the Breach.

Hadiden could hear Cassandra and Solas yelling at the mages and scouts to get ready, knew it deep in his mind, but couldn't bring himself to pay attention. The Breach was the center of the elf's attention. 

_Close this, and there might be a chance to return home._

Slowly, taking a tentative step, Hadiden made towards the Breach. The Dalish kept taking those small, hesitant steps, the confidence he had built up was fading. He couldn't tell if the Breach was causing all the doubt in him to surface, but the elf knew the Breach was effecting him.

It was as though the green tear between the spirit and real world was pushing fear and hatred through it. This feeling was different from last time. 

Trying to over come his own doubt, the doubt that surfaced from the Breach, Hadiden raised his left hand, the Mark flaring up as it sensed the Breach. The pain it sent through the elf was dulled, not hurting as much as it had the first time. Instead of fire burning through him, the Mark only felt like a bee sting at most. Hadiden raised it up, feeling the thing flare to life and connect with the Breach, sending waves of ice through his body. It wasn't long before Hadiden felt the push and pull of the mages behind him, the dizzying warmth of magic sending power through his mark into the tear. Before Hadiden knew it, the mark pulsed, along with the Breach, sending furious waves of lightning through the elf, but the tear was closing. 

As the tear in the sky closed, the lightning and force of it pushed the elf back, a good five feet at least. Hadiden's body bounced, flipped until he was on his stomach, his cheek pressed to the dirt. For a split second, he couldn't remember what he was doing. Everything was suddenly so sore, so rawly distressed. But, after a couple heart beats, Hadiden was able to recall what had happened and slowly started to lift himself up. 

Apparently the whole valley was knocked down, because as soon as Hadiden was to his feet, he was able to see a staggering Cassandra pushing past confused scouts. The Seeker was making her way to the elf, looking as though she seen a ghost. When she reached out to help steady Hadiden, the Dalish lifted his hand, letting her know that he didn't need help. 

Pride filled Hadiden's heart as the valley cheered, resonating with the sound of the mages and scouts cries of joys. He had done it; the elf had closed the Breach with help from the alliance that he had made. He had made the choices to get to this point, to calming one of the biggest threats in Thedas. 

Hadiden couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips, forming because he had finally done something _right_. He watched as Cullen rounded up the mages, as Leliana organized her scouts, and as Cassandra tried to order the inner circle. The Seeker was trying to get Hadiden to lead the large party, saying that Hadiden deserved to lead the victory back to Haven. The elf didn't argue, taking lead with Cullen to his right, Cassandra beside Cullen, and Leliana to his left. 

The chatter behind Hadiden filled him with something he had forgotten; hope. He had been able to do something, prove the Chantry wrong, to unit under a common cause, enlist those whom shared his goal, and to close the Breach. There was a light of hope in him that he might be able to go home after the Elder One was taken care of. He was so close.

 

When the Inquisition returned to Haven, they were treated as heroes. People were already rejoicing, drinking and celebrating Hadiden's triumph. Hadiden was almost eager to join in the celebration.

The party went off on their own, leaving Hadiden to look at Cassandra. The Seeker smiled. "Go," she said. "You have earned the celebration. We can meet after supper to discuss what the Inquisition will be turning to focus on next." 

Hadiden felt his heart stop for a moment before nodding, scurrying off to find his own way to celebrate the closing of the Breach. He could drink in the tavern, probably with Sera and joke about who knows what. He could find Solas, ask about the Breach and if it was finally over. The elf figured Vivienne wouldn't be out and drinking with everyone. His advisors were off celebrating in the Chantry with Cassandra. That left Varric, Dorian, and the Iron Bull.

It wasn't surprising to find the three of them outside Varric's tent, drinking and setting up crates to play Wicked Grace. It only took a few seconds before the Tevinter mage looked up to see Hadiden, stopped shuffling the cards, and smiled.

"Well, if it isn't the man of the hour; the Herald of Andraste, the master of the Breach!" Hadiden rolled his eyes at Dorian. The man was still smiling. 

"Don't you owe me a drink and a game, Dorian?" Hadiden asked, skipping to the point. That made Dorian laugh. "I do, don't I? Well, I'll get on that then. Varric, mind finishing shuffling these cards for me? I owe our Herald a drink."

"Of course, Sparkler. The kid deserves at least ten drinks," Varric took the cards and nodded for Hadiden to come over. The elf walked to the dwarf, watching him mix up the cards. 

"Are you going to stand the whole time, Boss?" Bull asked, holding two chairs. Hadiden gave a small smile and shook his head.

"I suppose not," he said as Bull placed the chair down. Hadiden adjusted it before sitting down. He watched as Bull placed another chair down beside Hadiden then took a seat across from the elf, sitting by Varric. As if on cue, Dorian appeared with a mug of Creators knows what and sat beside Hadiden. Hadiden eyed the mug, raising an eyebrow.

"Should I be worried what is in there?" The elf asked, looking at Dorian. The Tevinter laughed. 

"Would you be worried if I said it was Fereldan?" Hadiden shook his head before taking a swig of the drink. He nearly regretted it since the liquid burned on the way down, making him cough. He almost didn't notice the taste, too focused on the pain to realize it had an almost smoky taste that the elf really liked. He didn't drink much, obviously since he didn't handle liquor very well. Yet, he found himself trying it for the pure pleasure that he could. 

The Dalish took another drink, this time the drink didn't burn as much on its way down. Dorian smiled at the elf, making said elf raise an eyebrow.

"What?" He asked, taking his cards when Varric dealt them.

"Your cheeks are flushed. I'm guessing you didn't drink much while with the Dalish?" Dorian asked, taking his own cards, glancing at them, humming approval before looking back at Hadiden.

Hadiden shrugged. "Sometimes. I didn't drink too much unless it was a special occasion. I didn't find the appeal to it until now."

Hadiden a few silvers on the crates, feeling confident in his cards. Dorian did the same. "Why do it now?"

"I feel like I deserve drinking away the shit I've done; falling out of the Breach, being held as the most wanted criminal, going into a twisted and dark future. I think I deserve a few drinks." Hadiden smiled, almost laughing as Varric raised his drink.

"I'll drink to that. To the weird shit that Hadi goes through!" Varric said. Hadiden raised his drink with Varric, laughing as the Iron Bull and Dorian did the same, all calling out _"To Hadiden"_ before clashing their drinks together than taking long drinks. There was a warm feeling in Hadiden's stomach after their cheers. Maybe it was Dorian's smile, maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was just the calming, celebration all around Haven, but Hadiden felt pleasantly happy. 

Hadiden felt the ringing of Haven's bell as it resonated through the little pilgrimage town. His whole body shook as he turned to look at his friends, the fear apparent on their faces. Something was very wrong.

"Sera, Dorian, come with me. Bull, Blackwall, and Varric, get the villagers together and to the Chantry until we figure out what's happening," Hadiden ordered, standing from his spot and dropping his cards. If he would have continued with the game they were playing, he would have won. 

The Dalish looked to see Cassandra running to the gates. Without hesitation, Hadiden grabbed his bow and ran after the Seeker, hoping the city elf and Tevinter were right behind him. The worry on Cassandra's face told Hadiden that whatever was happening was not planned for. Dread and fear tangled into a restricting rope around Hadiden, making it hard to breathe. 

"Cullen!" Hadiden shouted, seeing the Commander arguing with Josephine. The Ambassador looked frightened, holding her clipboard close to herself. Hadiden almost wanted to hug her, tell her that it would be okay because she looked like she was a child. For a moment, Hadiden even believed the notion but shook the thought. Josephine was tougher than that. For now, she would be okay.

The Commander, on the other hand, looked as though he was reliving a flash back. Hadiden could see the cold sweat forming on his forehead, the tremble of his hands as he ordered soldiers to post or help the villagers. It took a moment for him to actually give a moment of attention to Hadiden.

"Herald, thank the Maker. I... I have no idea what's happening. One of Leliana's scouts came back saying an army was marching here." Cullen ran a hand through his hair, resting it on the back of his neck. The elf wondered if it was a nervous tick.

"Under what banner? Who is their commander?" Hadiden asked, pulling up his left glove. A nervous tick.

"None. There is no banner," was Cullen's reply.

"None?" Josephine and Cassandra asked at the same time. A lead ball dropped in Hadiden's stomach.

Within heartbeats, the doors to Haven slammed together, a glowing light forcing them to rock and rattle. A voice called from the other side;

"I can't come in unless you _open_."

Hadiden rushed to the doors, not liking the sound of the distress in the person's voice, nor did he like the sound of the fighting. When two guards opened the doors, ignoring Cullen's command to not let the Herald through, Hadiden stopped mid stride.

What stood before him were five Venatori guards laying dead in the snow. There was a sixth, but said sixth was being stabbed by what looked to be a farm boy. The boy couldn't have been older than nineteen, or at least from what Hadiden could see of his face. The boy's face was being concealed by a huge, floppy hat. The elf could barely see the wisps of pale blonde hair. 

The boy put away his dagger, surprised for a moment at the sight of Hadiden but then walked right up to him, getting closer than what Hadiden would have liked, and said, "They're here for you."

"For me? Who are you?" Hadiden took a step back, fighting the lump in his throat. The boy shook his head, looking up enough so that Hadiden could see a young, sunken in face. For a moment, he swore the boy was a ghost.

"My name is Cole. I'm here to help, or to try. They," he turned and pointed to the mass army of glowing red. "They are here to kill you. Their leader knows you. Do you know him?" When Hadiden shook his head, Cole said, "he says you took his mages."

"Mages? Hadiden, do you think?" Hadiden looked back at the voice. Dorian was frowning, his brows knit together. Hadiden didn't want to nod, but he did. 

"The Elder One."

"He is not happy about you taking the mages from him. He wants them back and you dead," Cole said, nervously looking back at the horde behind him. 

The Dalish whipped around to look at the Commander and his party. "Cullen, get everyone inside the Chantry. Josephine, you and Leliana need to calm them down and make sure no one is missed. Dorian, Sera, and Cassandra, we're going to try and push this army back." Hadiden hated taking lead, but given that he's seen how the advisors argue in circles for days on end, it was best that he gave an order than let them bicker. The consequences would fall on him rather than them, which Hadiden was all right with. 

"What about me? I want to help." Hadiden glanced at Cole before saying, "go to the Chantry. Help whoever needs it there. Don't get hurt."

 

"Run! Run to the Chantry!" Hadiden stubbled, shouting the words to his companions who were still struggling to get back up. 

_Were we just attacked by a dragon? Or was that an archdemon?_

The elf patted the ground until his bow was back in his hand, following behind Cassandra and Sera as they made towards the gates of Haven. Naturally, Hadiden had to stop to help the blacksmith into his hut. After that, it was a fair sprint to the gates, feeling relief flood over him as the doors were closed once all the stragglers were inside the walls. 

Hadiden felt his heart racing, felt as though it would jump out of his chest and run away. How in the Creators name did an archdemon dragon fly to Haven and _know to attack him_. Hadiden looked at his small party. He had to keep them alive and all of Haven.

The elf tried to calm his breathing before saying, "We need... We need to sweep the village, make sure no one is left behind. I want everyone in the Chantry so that dragon thing doesn't hurt anyone else."

"Anyone else?" Dorian asked, but Hadiden walked right past him.

"Yes, anyone else. Let's go."

 

The doors of the Chantry slammed just as hard as Hadiden's heart slammed against his ribs. They had searched for survivors, stragglers, anyone left behind. They thankfully were able to get everyone alive and back to the Chantry, but the next problem was what to do.

Hadiden's ribs hurt. The attack and being flipped around from the dragon wasn't good to his body. He might have cracked something, but wouldn't know until things were under control again.

The elf ignored his pain to walk towards Cullen, who was arguing with Dorian, Cassandra, and Leliana.

"He's one of your people!" Cassandra shouted.

"My people? I didn't claim him! Alexius was the one to claim him!" Dorian shouted back.

"Does it matter?" Leliana asked. "What's important is we know who he is and how to kill him."

"And stop his army," Cullen added.

"Cullen is right," Hadiden said, crossing his arms. White pain flares though his rib cage, but he ignored it. "The problem is right in front of us; a huge army of Templars, poisoned by red lyrium, is marching here, and we have no way out. We have innocent people here, and we'll be buried alive if we don't try to stop them."

"And how might we do that, Hadiden?" Dorian asked. 

"He knows."

The group looked at the mysterious farm boy. Cole was walking up, moving like a ghost. "Rodrick says he knows a way out. He says if it helps the Herald, he will show the way."

"Help me?" Hadiden asked. "Rodrick doesn't even like me, thinks I'm the Divine's killer."

" _They flock to him, seeing something in him that I might have missed. Hope, so much hope. How could he be a beacon of hope? Killer, murderer, we lost the Divine because of him. But maybe, possibly, maybe I'm wrong. Maker let me be wrong. Wrong, wrong, I'm very wrong. Maker forgive me, let me help him now. Let him save these people. He is hope._ " 

Hadiden's cheeks heated up, the tips of his ears following soon after. Rodrick believed he could help these people, to protect them. A new spark flared inside the elf, one usually lit for his clan. The Dalish was far away from the clan, too far to call them home, because this was his home now. He was going to protect this home.

The elf turned to the commander. "Cullen, get these people out of here. Let Cole and Rodrick lead the way. Leliana and a few of her scouts can cover the back. Tell Solas and Vivienne to stay in the middle to help the injured. Varric will stay with Leliana, and Josephine should be up front. Bull and Blackwall can be leading, fighting if anything shows up."

"That leaves Dorian, Sera, and Cassandra and you," Cullen pointed out.

Hadiden glanced at the mage and Seeker. He didn't know where Sera was but sure she was somewhere close by.

"Cassandra will bring up the rear, Dorian will join in the middle, and Sera will help Blackwall and Bull. They'll come running to join you guys once we've made a distraction outside." Hadiden crossed his arms, straightening his back. 

"That's all of us but you," Dorian said, frowning. Hadiden was glad he wasn't smiling, but his heart strings were still being yanked. He had to ignore it. Now was not the time.

"I'm going to distract that thing out there for as long as possible. You all are going to get the people of Haven safely out of here with the time I'm going to give you." 

"Hadiden, you can't be serious. That's... that's suicide!" Dorian exclaimed. Hadiden bit his lip before saying, "It won't be if I time it all right. Don't worry-"

" 'Don't worry' he says. Do you even have a plan?" Dorian was angry, Hadiden could tell. His hand movements were becoming greater, exaggerated. 

"I have an idea, but that's more than anyone else has!" Hadiden shouted. "If I don't go out there and do something, then this whole village will be killed! I will not have anymore innocent people killed because of me!" 

"But why must you do it alone? One man against a whole army, an archdemon, and whatever the Elder One is?" Dorian walked closer to Hadiden, possibly trying to use his height to persuade and intimidate Hadiden. It didn't work.

"Because I want you to live, even if I'm buried in the snow." Hadiden turned away from the Tevinter mage, looking right at Cullen.

"Commander, get the people out of here now."

"Right away, Herald."

 

Maybe, just maybe, if Hadiden hadn't been an elf, turning the wheel for the trebuchet wouldn't have taken as long as it did. Maybe, if he wasn't a hunter, but rather a warrior like Cassandra, it wouldn't have worn him out turning the trebuchet around to aim towards the mountain tops. But, he was a hunter and an elf, which meant his companions had to distract all the red Templars while he tried to prepare for a whim of a plan.

_Creators let this work, please._

A high pitched screech erupted through Haven, making Hadiden skin crawl. There was without a doubt that that was the archdemon. It was close.

The Dalish looked around, making sure that the Templars were dead. He jumped away from the trebuchet and ran towards his companions.

"Go, now. Go back to the Chantry and get out of Haven," Hadiden ordered, trying to shove Dorian so he would move. The shemlan wouldn't budge.

"We aren't leaving without-"

"That's not your decision to make, Dorian! Get out of here! Please," Hadiden pleaded. The elf looked at the Seeker. "Cassandra, get Sera and Dorian out of here."

"As... As you wish, Herald," the Seeker said, and it was without hesitation that she and Sera were grabbing Dorian's arms. Dorian tried to fight them for a moment, but he gave up. Hadiden figured he realized his attempt to convince Hadiden to come with them was futile. 

His companions disappeared into Haven, and Hadiden ran back to the trebuchet. He needed to wait, to give them time to get to the Chantry before he fired the device. As soon as he let the lever go, let it hit the mountain, he only had a small window to run to the Chantry and escape with the rest. He only had minutes, maybe seconds before he would be buried alive.

Hadiden was almost ready to hit the lever, to let Haven and the red Templar army have it, when a literal fire ball hit the trebuchet, sending the elf flying. The Dalish was knocked off the war device, thrown into the snow, and left dizzy and confused. He swore he blacked out for a moment, not remembering if he hit his head or not, whether he should be by the trebuchet or away, or _why is a dragon flying down towards Haven?_

Hadiden tried to get up, his arms feeling numb and useless as he tried to push off the ground. His head was spinning, making the ground twirl in his vision. If it continues to spin, Hadiden might have well just stayed on the ground to vomit. Speaking of vomiting, Hadiden's stomach hurt, as did his ribs and his right shoulder. He was going to need to get healed or find some kind of injury kit. 

The Dalish found his world spinning twice as much, and more pain flaring through his body as he was yanked up. Yet, when he thought his feet should have hit the ground again, they never did. His lanky legs were dangling, which caused the elf to kick his legs and squirm around to figure out why his body wasn't in contact with the ground. The fighting didn't allow for an advantage, but when Hadiden decided to stop struggling, the reason he couldn't touch the ground appeared.

His arm was locked in the fist of... Of... _What in Creators' name was it?_

The creature was human, maybe at one point it was, but his arm looked like a darkspawn and his head had red lyruim pointing out from it. Hadiden grimaced as the creature tightened his hold on the elf's arm. The Dalisg nearly screamed out when the Mark flared, but withheld from it. The Mark hadn't been hurting for so long, why was it hurting him now?

"What a pathetic creature. How is it that you've soiled plans that were in the making for years now?" The creature, darkspawn thing asked. Hadiden wiggled, wanting to get away.

"You've been planning to take mages for years? That's a pretty terrible idea. Let me go- ah!" 

Hadiden was just dropped onto the ground, having no time to consider being dropped. His knees buckled and landed on his side, his whole body feeling like mush. The Mark flared again, forcing pain through his veins. 

"You will know you're betters, Imposter. You will know the will that is Corypheus." The thing, Corypheus, moved, stepping away from the elf. Hadiden glanced up, looking at the monster move. A peek over his shoulder let Hadiden know that the dragon was right behind him. 

When the elf tried to get up off the ground, the Mark argued. Hadiden grabbed his wrist and brought his hand to his center, folding around it. Everything hurt, hurt like fire in his body. Had to stop, make it stop.

Through tears in his eyes, Hadiden looked at the darkspawn man and asked, "What in Creators' name are you?"

Corypheus turned and growled, chilling Hadiden's blood. "I am something you will never understand, something that you will never come to match. I am Corypheus, and in another name, I stormed the Black City and-"

"That's not what I asked!" Hadiden shouted. Why did this thing think it needed to explain himself in riddles? Why couldn't it just say it outright?

"I was once a magister, and you will know my will, and know your place like the elf you are." Corypheus loomed over Hadiden before grabbing both his arms again, hoisting him up. The elf groaned and fought against his captor. 

"You have stolen something that did not belong to you," the thing said. He dropped Hadiden again, and to be honest, Hadiden was getting sick of being dropped and picked up. If he could just stab the thing, bury Haven, and get out, Hadiden would have been happier. 

Corypheus pulled out a... A ball? The ball looked like a child's toy, but had valleys and hills around it. Hadiden though it'd be funny if it was his dragon's toy. But it wasn't a toy, oh no. The magister some how made the ball glow, making it flare a red color. The flaring green color from the Mark changed to red, mixing with faint lines of green. This time, Hadiden screamed out. His whole hand hurt, like it was being slowly yanked off of his wrist. And it wasn't his whole arm, oh no. It was just his hand. The elf's fingers were numb, to the point that he couldn't move them at all. He wanted to make a fist, to dull down the pain. But he couldn't. 

"Make it stop!" Hadiden pleaded. He wanted it to stop. He didn't like begging to this creature, but if it got the Mark to stop hurting him, killing him, he'd be happy.

"It seems that the anchor is permanent. You have soiled my plans, and though you have no idea the power you wield, you use it to undo all that I have set into motion. I will not allow an unknown enemy to survive," the magister said. Again, Hadiden was lift from the ground, but this time being thrown to the trebuchet. 

When his spine hit the device, the elf swore he wouldn't be able to get up. The Dalish rolled over onto his side to see a sword, one of the scout's swords no less. The elf staggered up, swaying as he bent down to grab the sword. Surprisingly, the sword wasn't as heavy as he had expected. But the elf still had to hold it with two hands, raised and ready to defend. He looked pathetic.

Apparently Corypheus agreed that he looked pathetic because he laughed. Hadiden thought he was gettin double vision but ignored it. Focus was key.

"I will not surrender. I... I won't just lay down and let you kill me or the rest of Haven," Hadiden said, forcing courage into his words. In the distance, behind Corypheus, a small light shot up above the mountains.

_Cullen's signal._

Hadiden squinted at the magister and said, "and you will face me, and all of the Inquisition, when we are ready!" 

The elf chucked the sword at the magister before kicking the lever for the trebuchet. Seconds, only seconds were spent watching the debris in the device be launched to the mountains. Corypheus was focused on the distraction, which allowed Hadiden to run in the other direction, away from the Chantry. He could hear the mountain coming down, knowing he had seconds before he was buried, but that didn't scare him. 

He wasn't afraid of being buried alive.

Yet, the elf still ran, ran until he realized he had to jump. The leap was out of pure faith that was rewarded with his head hitting stone and blackness.

 

The pounding never went away. Hadiden figured that his jump let him finally meet death, yet the pounding pain in his head told him that death had yet to claim him. A pained groan escaped past Hadiden's lips as he tried to open his eyes, rolling onto his side. Something was broken, torn, oh, Creators how was he going to get up?

When the elf finally opened his eyes, his hands immediately found his left side to hold it. His right hand moved for a minute so that Hadiden could see. His palm was stained red. Red. Blood. He was bleeding. Hadiden forced himself to sit up as best as possible, which made the bleeding worse. 

The Dalish sat there, his mind blank. How was he going to fix this? There wasn't a healer or any elfroot potions he could use. He had no bandages. It hit him like he hit the trebuchet that he had magic. Another groan was let out, and this time it wasn't from pain. The elf pulled out his hunting dagger slowly, cutting through the cloth that separated him from his wound. The sight of the wound was worse than the had thought.

It wasn't a stab wound, but instead it was a gushing scrape that pulled through clothes and skin alike. The cloth that Hadiden had cut off was actually part of the scab that was forming. It hurt a whole lot more than he realized it would. But it didn't stop him, not quite yet. He forced himself to close his eyes and focus his energy on the wound. He felt the tingle, the pinpricks of his magic flowing from his hands to his side. If he could get it closed, patched enough so he wouldn't bleed out, maybe there was a chance of knowing where he was. But he was weak, not sure his magic would work when he himself was in a weakened state.

After a few moments, heartbeats even, Hadiden moved his hands away. It was scabbed, looking horrid, but it would last. It would leave a scar, even if healers could patch him up, but Hadiden didn't care. The elf took the remains of the cloth he cut off and tried to tie them together to form some kind of bandage. When it didn't work, he yanked off his long coat and cut it, making a bandage for himself. Josephine, Leliana, and Vivienne would be devastated at the fashion disgrace, but his life was a lot more important. 

Hadiden slowly pushed off the ground, using the snow and ice covered rock walls to steady his legs. The elf was sure that his ankle was twisted, but he didn't have time to attend to it. He'd sooner freeze to death if he focused his energy to wounds. Even slower, Hadiden forced his body to move forward, to find a way out.

 

A blizzard. Of all the things to be caught in, it had to be a blizzard. Hadiden couldn't see three feet in front of himself, could hear nothing but the screeching of the wind in his ears, and could only feel the nipping of the cold on his skin. His skin felt frozen, like it shouldn't be moving, like every muscle was coated in ice, but it still moved. The Mark, or anchor, was still glowing, illuminating the mountain side in a bright green. As he blocked his eyes with his marked hand, Hadiden also used it as his light source. And, if he had been lucky, he would have tried to summon some fire to keep warm, but his body was so drained, he couldn't even make a spark with his finger. He was just... Tired.

His travel through the mountains was tiring beyond belief. Forcing his body to move through the snow was horrid. The snow piles reached to his knee, meaning, as Varric would say, Hadiden was ass deep in snow. If anything was to freeze first, it would be his legs. If his legs froze, Hadiden knew he'd never find the rest of the Inquisition. He'd be buried in the snow.

The idea of dying in the snow made Hadiden reminisce in his memories. He thought of his clan, his home, and how he was just... thrown away from them. He missed his mother, his father, missed everything. He missed his mother's cooking, the way she coddled him through his tears and nightmares. How she would sing in Elvish to calm him down. He missed how she smiled and he laugh as Hadiden got frustrated when he arrow wouldn't hit the target. He missed having to pick flowers for her in the spring and how she would put it in his hair when she had extras. Hadiden missed his mother so much.

He missed his father too. He missed his strong hands guiding him through the motions of firing an arrow. How his father would tell him stories of Kirkwall, of his brother, and life outside the Dalish. He missed welcoming his father back to the clan, to see his bounty for the clan. He missed his father teaching him how to ride a halla. That was Hadiden's favorite, learning about the hallas. Oh how he missed the hallas.

It was only seconds that Hadiden realized his last moments wouldn't be spent with his clan, like he thought they would be. Instead, the last people to remember him would be the Inquisition, specifically Dorian. Hadiden cursed himself for pushing the man away, forcing him to leave, but knew it was Dorian's chance to live. For a moment, only a short moment, Hadiden thought that him and Dorian could be friends. They were betting drinks over Wicked Grace, talking about their lives, and Hadiden found it easier since he knew about his magic and didn't leave. Dorian found his curse a gift, trying to convince Hadiden it was okay. A childish thought, but Hadiden would miss that.

He'd miss Sera's jokes while traveling, making Cassandra mad. He'd miss Cassandra and how she was strong and brave and everything he wasn't. He'd miss Varric, the dwarf that was acting a father figure since Hadiden's father was in the Marches. He'd miss Bull, his jokes and drinks, and Krem. Hadiden liked Krem a lot. He didn't know if he'd really miss Solas, but he would. He'd miss the stories of the Fade he told and the companionship of being another elf. Hadiden would miss Vivienne fussing over his clothes, and Blackwall's confidence in his cause. He'd miss Josephine's smile, Leliana's dedication, and Cullen's bravery. 

Hadiden didn't want to die. He wanted to find the Inquisition, to tell everyone how much he really cared, and how sorry he was for causing all the problems they were facing. He wanted to send word to his clan to apologize, to tell them he wasn't coming back, to tell them the Inquisition needed him, that he needed them.

The elf found a small fire, or what was once a fire by the mountain pass. Hope soon filled then fled Hadiden's heart. The fire wasn't recent, and that meant the Inquisition was anywhere. He had no idea how far they were, and his knees were about ready to give out. If he had to walk in this snow, the calmed blizzard, he would pass out. His body would lock up, quit, and he wouldn't make it. 

The trudge up to the middle of the pass was the worst. Gravity was telling him to just fall down, but his will screamed at him to continue going. He had to-

"There he is!"

Hadiden was losing it. He could hear voices now-

"Thank the Maker!"

The elf fell to his knees, his eyes staring to burr out the world. He could barely see the figures running to him.

"Where- Hadiden!" 

The elf tried to blink away the icicles as he tried to see the figures. Armor, lots of it, dark purple and grey. There were robes, white robes. No armor. He tried to focus on the words, to hear who was in front of him.

"The Tevinter was right-"

"I don't care I was right! Well, I do, but what's important is he's found! Commander, give me your rug!"

Rug?

"My what?"

"Cullen, listen to the mage," a woman's voice, heavy with an accent. Cassandra?

"Maker's breath, you're ice cold, Hadiden," the man who demanded a rug said. Hadiden blinked, seeing grey eyes and... was that a mustache? Creators, was it really Dorian?

The elf smiled weakly, feeling a literal rug wrap around him. It must have been Cullen's robe that he wore over his armor. It was warmer than anything Hadiden could remember. Then he was being lifted, cradled like a baby. Hadiden tried to fight for a moment until he remembered it was Dorian. It didn't help, he didn't want to be touched, but he soon quit. He was too tired to fight.

"Reckless man. What were you thinking? Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know about your unspoken desire to kill yourself," Dorian said, lecturing him. Hadiden rolled his head to rest against Dorian's shoulder. The elf could feel the heat radiating from the other man. "Don't worry," Dorian continued. "I'm here. I've got you. I'll protect you, Hadiden."

Hadiden tried to mumble something out, but couldn't. He couldn't find the words, not because he didn't know what to say, but because his mind was running blank. He shouldn't close his eyes, he shouldn't, but he did. 

 

Hadiden could hear arguing. Creators he just wanted five more minutes of sleep, but Cassandra and the advisors. They... what were they arguing about?

The elf rubbed his eyes and slowly say up. He expected pain, his ribs and the rest of his body to hurt, but it didn't. Someone must have gotten him a healer.

"You should rest, Herald," a heavily accented woman said. Hadiden blinked before realizing that it was Mother Giselle, trying to tend to him and to get the elf to lay down again. He didn't want to.

"I should be helping them," Hadiden said, swinging his legs off the side of the cot. He wasn't in so much pain.

"They are able to argue because of the time you've given them. I do not think your voice will help in making a resolution to our situation. Allow them time the argue, and, once things are calm, then you can help. For now, you need rest," she sighed as Hadiden refused to lay back down. 

The elf stared at his hands, flipping his left one to look at the anchor. "I gave them that time. I nearly died, but I gave them time." He sighed. "That thing that attacked, Corypheus, he wants all of us dead, me most of all. And is unhappy about the anchor. I..." Hadiden stopped. It was his fault they were lost in the snow filled mountains.

The Mother shook her head. "While that may be the case, you are not to blame for this."

Hadiden shook his head, running his hand through his hair. He'd need to cut it soon. It was getting too long. "Don't you see? It is my fault. If this...this anchor thing wasn't on my hand, he wouldn't have wanted to attack. If I hadn't gotten the mages, he wouldn't want to fight us for them."

"And where would we be if you had not soiled his plans?"

The elf looked the Mother in the eyes, feeling like a child. 

"If he had gotten all that he had wanted, we would not still be standing. We do not know what kind of chaos would fall upon Thedas if you had not been at the Conclave. And, by standing against him, you have shown you were given the anchor for a reason, a reason greater than you or I could understand."

"I just... I wish I knew what I was doing, that it's right. Too many people are staring to believe in me now. I don't want their hope to be shattered," Hadiden admitted. Too many followers, too many admirers, too many people. They all wanted him to save the day. He couldn't even save Haven.

Hadiden got up from the cot, thankfully that his ankle no longer hurt. He walked a few paces, realizing only a moment later that the advisors and Cassandra had stopped yelling. Hadiden was thankful for that to end. 

_"Shadows fall and hope has fled_  
_"Steel your heart, the dawn will come_  
_"The night is long and the path is dark_  
_"Look to the sky for one day soon_  
_"The dawn will come."_

Mother Giselle was standing beside Hadiden, singing. He didn't know the song, probably a Chantry song, but when the elf looked around, the people around looked up. Something sparked in the people; maybe hope. Hadiden didn't know, but soon seen Leliana raise her head to the voice of Mother Giselle. Her, Josephine, Cassandra, and Cullen joined in. Soon, Haven's people were joining. 

_"The Shepard's lost, and his home is far_  
_"Keep to the stars, the dawn will come."_  
_"The night is long, and the path is dark,_  
_"Look to the sky for one day soon_  
_"The dawn will come."_

Hadiden was surrounded, the people of Haven wrapping him in chorus. The elf felt his ears heating up, which meant his cheeks were going red. 

_"Bare your blade, and raise it high,_  
_"Stand you're ground, the dawn will come."_  
_"The night is long, and the path is dark,_  
"Look to the sky, for one day soon,  
_"The dawn will come."_

The Dalish stared as the people of Haven filled the valley with song. The elf had no words, unable to describe what he felt as the people raised him in song. 

"Fear and faith go hand in hand," Mother Giselle said. "When faith is tested by fear, it is made stronger." 

The Mother left Hadiden with her words to ponder. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Hadiden could see the bald apostate. Said apostate beckoned him to come, so the Dalish hunter followed. He watched as Solas lit a flame, making the snow glow pure blue. Hadiden loved the color, but was confused as to what Solas wanted.

"They raise you up as if you were a prophet. It's been some time since an elf was raised above such as you have been," the elf said. Hadiden shrugged his shoulders. He barely understood it, barely wanted it, but accepted it. 

"I believe such faith deserves a place to grow now that Haven has been destroyed." Solas paced a moment before looking at Hadiden.

The Dalish man nodded. "I agree. But where can we go? We're in the middle of no where," Hadiden pointed out. The other elf apparently thought of an answer because he said, "I know of a place."

Hadiden glanced over his shoulder at the camp of people. They were depending on him.

"All right, Solas. Now tomorrow, but come the next morning, I want to find wherever you know of. I... I have to get the people safe." Hadiden watched the smile that appeared on Solas' face. The elf nodded and bided Hadiden a good night. 

The Dalish would have a good night as soon as he found his timely rescuer. 

 

"Sparkler? Came into camp, cradling you like a kid, demanding a bed. We got him a cot and he put you down. He refused to leave your side until you met his expectations of healthy. The man nearly passed out from healing you and warming you up. I don't think he actually knows a lot of healing spells," Varric said, after telling Hadiden that he was happy he was alive and after the elf asked for Dorian. "Mother Giselle made him rest after awhile, sure that he's near kill himself if he kept at it. I think he's still asleep in the tent that was left to where you were resting."

Hadiden smiled slightly. "Thanks Varric."

"Oh, and Hadi?" Hadiden turned, raising an eyebrow. "Thank the Maker you're alive."

 

Hadiden found Dorian. He wasn't asleep, but he was in the tent that Varric had said he was in. The Tevinter mage was fixing his hair as Hadiden walked in.

"Ma serannas, Dorian. I... I thought you were asleep," Hadiden stuttered. 

"No harm done." Dorian hesitated before getting up. Hadiden walked towards him, afraid the man might fall over. The mage waved the elf away.

There was silence between them before Hadiden blurted out, "Why did you come looking for me?"

"What a strange question," Dorian said, furrowing his brows. He wasn't happy with the elf's question. "As much as you probably don't want to believe it, there are people who care about you, Hadiden. I am one of them and didn't want you to die out there."

"So you took Cullen's robe and carried me back, healing me until you passed out?" Hadiden crossed his arms. Dorian laughed.

"Would you like me to deny that I saved you out there? Didn't I already promise I would protect you?" Dorian asked, answering Hadiden's question with a question. The man was insufferable.

Hadiden wanted the scream. He couldn't believe how stubborn Dorian was being. Couldn't he be a normal human and just hate him? Hate his magic? Why was he treating him like a friend?

The elf sighed and looked down. "I just..." He didn't know what he wanted to say, wanted to convey to Dorian. But the Tevinter man must have gotten it, whatever it was, because he said, "I did it because I care, Hadiden. You're more than just the Herald to me."

Hadiden looked up through his lashes, feeling like... like he did when he was seventeen. Too new, too fresh, too young to know what he was doing. "I appreciate it, Dorian."

The man smiled, which made Hadiden's heart stutter. _Stop it. He's a friend. He's nothing more than a friend._

"Don't make it a habit of trying to get yourself killed. I'll be greatly disappointed," Dorian said, his smile still bright and warming. Hadiden wanted to scream.

"For you? I could promise that," Hadiden said, smiling.


	11. Skyhold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun story. My phone deleted ALL of my notes, meaning all my new chapters for everything (If Only Without Magic and A Chained Halla) was deleted.   
> So this is a rewritten version of what I had.

When the people of Haven were ready to march, Hadiden was skeptical about it. He had no idea where he was taking them, had no idea where Solas wanted to lead him, but he had to do it. The people of Haven needed a safe place since he had indirectly but directly destroyed Haven. And the Inquisition needed a fortress to grow, build, become the force that would take down Corypheus when they were ready. And honestly? Hadiden just wanted to place to rest after the attack. 

"You know, when I came to the south, I didn't think I'd be trucking through snow covered mountains since our last fortress was attacked by an ancient magister that was supposed to be dead. You southerners keep things interesting." Dorian walked up beside Hadiden. The elf forced a laugh before saying, "I'm from the Marches. This is more excitement than I'm used to."

"No?" Dorian asked. "What about the Chantry blowing up in Kirkwall?"

"My clan wasn't near Kirkwall when that happened," Hadiden said. "I believe we were closer to Owstick than Kirkwall then." The elf shrugged. Dorian laughed.

"That isn't too much better. You could still be considered from the south."

Hadiden snorted and looked at the mage beside him. He was gleaming in the morning light. The dark circles under his eyes told Hadiden that he, along with everyone else, was having a hard time sleeping. Hadiden couldn't blame them, having his own nightmares from the attack. But Dorian was smiling, his hair perfectly styled as always, and his mustache curling just like always. The elf smiled at the human. 

"Says the man who is literally from the north. It seems like Tevinter doesn't get any sort of excitement. Should we hope for the next world shattering event to happen in Minrathous?" Hadiden smirked at Dorian's surprised gasp and fake shock.

"I would certainly hope not! There would be too much history lost if Minrathous fell to something like a Blight or ancient magister attacking with his blasted archdemon," Dorian said, smiling as Hadiden laughed. The elf felt his cheeks flushing, but if asked he would blame the cold. "And we can't have that, now can we?" He asked, calming down from the giggle fit.

"We certainly cannot. As far from Minrathous as I am, I still consider it to be home," Dorian said. The mood changed from light hearted banter to something that struck Hadiden. The elf nodded. 

"Why is it that you're so far from your home if you love it so much?" Hadiden asked. He felt as if he had had the conversation before with Dorian, but hadn't gotten anywhere. But the mage sighed, looking away for a moment.

"Oh you know, the family legacy that I was born for that I declined which upset my parents greatly." Dorian paused a moment before saying, "they wanted me to be something I couldn't be." 

There was silence. For a moment, Hadiden thought he knew what Dorian meant when he had said that he knew what it meant to be different. The elf was about to ask what his parents wanted when the Tevinter asked, "Where is home for you? Will you be returning to your clan once Corypheus is gone?"

The Dalish bit his lip, considering his answer. He had been telling himself that he wanted to return to the clan, to see his parents, to be Dalish again. But something was different. Maybe it was from the attack, or maybe it was the new point of view Hadiden had, but Desire was right. The elf didn't really want to return to the clan. Visiting his clan, that was different. If he visited them, he wouldn't be bound to stay. Hadiden wanted to stay with the Inquisition.

"You know," he started. "As much as I love my clan, I don't think I'll go back once most of this is over. Even if I could go now, I don't think I would." He watched Dorian nod. 

"I might just stay a bit longer myself," Dorian said. "There might be a few good things that are worth staying around for."

 

Hadiden's feet hurt from the hike in the mountains. But the minute that the fortress came into view, the elf felt like he could ran for days. It looked perfect; completely stable, hidden in the mountains, and away from Corypheus' army. At first Hadiden was worried that there might be a minor lord or someone important there, but when Solas came to his side, the fear was put to rest.

"Skyhold," Solas said. "A place long since forgotten by all. I thought it be fitting that the Inquisition rebuild here."

Hadiden was gaping. "How did you know about it? Did you see it in the Fade, or did you travel here before?"

The other elf seem pleased. "Like I have said, I can only dream of places I have been. I have found myself in Skyhold on a few accounts during my journeys. It has offered safe harbor for me many a times. Now I offer that safety to you and the Inquisition." 

Hadiden couldn't look at the other elf. Instead, he found his body moving quickly, trying to find the easiest path to the fortress. 

Skyhold.

 

Arriving to the fortress was two different weeks. The first week involved Hadiden running around, seeing to minor construction efforts. While there would need to be major construction since a bit of the fortress was falling apart, there was still a bit the Inquisition could do with the limited resources. And Hadiden wanted to be apart of it all. 

He didn't like people asking his opinion so much, but he really enjoyed being able to work on the fortress, sometimes alone. It was half way through the week when Josephine found Hadiden hammering a board to the soon-to-be tavern.

"Master Lavellan!" She exclaimed. Hadiden turned to face the woman, still holding the hammer.

"Yes, Josephine? Is there something you need me to do?" He asked innocently. 

"The Herald of Andraste should not-"

Hadiden couldn't help but giggle, which seemed to offend Josephine. The elf smiled. "Josie, no one out here really sees me as the Herald right now. To the people, I'm a painted elf that is helping the Inquisition." 

The Antivan woman huffed and crossed her arms. Hadiden placed the hammer down, smiling still. "I do not see it so becoming of the beacon of hope to these people to be hammering up boards." She wasn't happy. Hadiden sighed.

"All right, I'll stop for now. But I can't promise that I won't return later," he said, Josephine mumbled something but the elf couldn't hear.

"That is fine," she said. "So long as I do not see, I don't see a problem. But I do have a few things for you."

Hadiden nodded and willingly followed the woman into the main hall of Skyhold.

 

"... And Master Tethras- Master Lavellan?"

Hadiden was staring at a piece of parchment for Creators know how long. Josephine had been talking about something that had to do with Varric, or maybe his carta? Or the carta was coming after him for money? Hadiden couldn't remember but looked up. Josephine was frowning. At first, it looked like she was angered, but then she relaxed. Her brows relaxed and her eyes changed to something resembling sympathy.

"You have been looking at that parchment for quite some time now. I would have thought you were finished looking it over, but..." Her voice trailed off, and Hadiden felt his ears heat up.

"About that," he said. The elf placed the paper on Josephine's desk. "I was... trained as a hunter. I wasn't born a..." Hadiden stopped a moment before forcing his words. "I wasn't born a mage, so I wasn't taught as the Keeper's First. If I would have been the First, I would have been taught to read the common language, but I wasn't. My father taught me how to write my name, but that's all." 

The Antivan woman gasped, and Hadiden stared at the ground. Lying and admitting that he was illiterate. That was very becoming of the Herald of Andraste. 

But it seemed that his illiteracy wasn't a problem to Josephine because she said, "do not worry, Master Lavellan. I will schedule you a tutor, possibly Master Pavus or Madame de Fer, to teach you the basics. I have no doubt that they will be able to teach you. And, if both are unwilling, then I will tutor you myself. Though, I must admit, I've never been much for teaching."

Hadiden couldn't help the innocent smile that played across his lips. "I appreciate it greatly, Josephine."

 

The new clothes that Josephine ordered for Hadiden were... they were something.

The first outfit he had been given was a grey pajama looking thing that was not at all flattering. Apparently it was a style in Orlais. Hadiden hated it. The second one was a royal blue long sleeved shirt that was very fitted. With it was a pair of black tights and brown boots. They looked much better, but the look didn't feel right to Hadiden. The last attempt was to force him into the final choice. The first piece was a thin green undershirt that matched the spring grass. Then the brown over shirt. The green shirt was long sleeved while the brown one fit more like a vest. The leggings that went with the outfit matched the vest piece, and hugged his legs. The boots were a slightly darker brown, but they had stitching that matched the color of the green shirt. Hadiden adored it, reminding him of Dalish armor. Josephine seemed pleased too, but wasn't pleased with his hair. His tousled blonde locks looked like a mess, even when he ran a comb through them. She had asked if he would cut it shorter or grow it out longer. Hadiden said he liked it as it was. 

After a meeting with a few scouts, Hadiden found his advisors and Cassandra all huddled together. The elf raised his eyebrow as they all dispersed, besides Cass.

"You know, she started, "everything is nearly finished with most of the construction. We need more resources to finish repairs, but that can be discussed later. For now, there is one problem."

She guided him towards the stairs up to the next level of Skyhold. Hadiden blinked, confused. "What's wrong? Don't let it be another army marching this way."

The Seeker laughed. "No, no armies. The Inquisition is growing, and will continue to grow. What we need now is an Inquisitor; someone to lead us." There was a pause. When they reached the platform over looking the main courtyard, Cassandra and Hadiden were met with Leliana. The Spymaster was holding a large sword, her head bent down. Cassandra took the sword and turned towards Hadiden.

"What are you implying?" He asked, uneasy. The elf nearly took a step back away from the women. If he had, he would have fallen.

"We need a leader, and there is no better choice than the one who has already been leading us: you. It is a lot to ask of, but you are the one who brought us here, who has brought so many hope. We ask that you take this position."

Hadiden stared at the sword. He glanced at his left hand, the anchor glowing dimly. That mark was what brought him to this moment. Slowly, trying to keep his anxiety in check, Hadiden wrapped his left hand around the hilt of the sword. His right hand went under the blade, holding the weapon, staring at it.

"Corypheus will be back, and he will be after me. If accepting this position will make it so that we're ready for his attack, then I will accept. I can't promise to be the perfect leader, so I hope that you and the rest of the Inquisition will lend its aid to me," he said, looking up at the Seeker. Cassandra nodded, smiling. 

"Let's ask the people then," she said. 

The Seeker turned to the crowd forming. Hadiden looked out to see all the people that he had saved the night of the attack. His heart sped up, his stomach dropping. They all trusted him.

"Cullen, are the people ready?"

The commander shouted, "yes!"

"Will they follow?"

There was a roar from the crowd.

"Josephine, have they heard the news?"

The Antivan woman nodded. "They have, and soon, so will all of Thedas!"

Cassandra looked at Hadiden. The elf took a step forward, making sure the whole crowd could see him. He looked at the Seeker again, watching her nod before raising the sword into the air. As if on cue, the crowd cheered as Cullen shouted;

"Your leader...! Your Herald...! Your Inquisitor!"

 

The second week at Skyhold was mostly a blur. It was mostly Hadiden running around, acting as the Inquisitor. At first, the title made him uneasy. It held a lot of power, a lot of hope, a lot of fear. If he slipped up, made one mistake, the world would know. If his magic slipped up, all of Thedas would know about his lie. It was more important now than before to be careful with his curse. 

But, at the end of the week, Hadiden found himself sitting with Varric in the main hall. Varric was ignoring some merchant's guild paperwork and having a drink with the elf.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Hadiden admitted, ignoring the drink Varric offered him. The dwarf laughed.

"That would make two of us, Hadi. I should ask, how are you holding up?" The dwarf took off his glasses, setting them to the side. The elf shook his head, running his hand through his hair. "You know, that was probably not the best question, but it needs to be asked. I mean, you fell out of the Breach, went into a dark future with a Tevinter mage, faced down an ancient magister that I thought was dead, ran from the magister and his archdemon, managed to survive the avalanche on Haven, and then took the position as the leader one of the most powerful military force in all of Thedas. And on top of that, you have your own bit of stress that makes all of this a lot harder, am I right?" Varric was staring at Hadiden. The Dalish sighed.

"It's... It's a lot, I won't lie. I have to keep calm, which is really difficult. This is more than I thought I'd have to handle as a hunter with my clan." Hadiden looked at the dwarf. Said dwarf snorted. 

"How were you going to handle it as a hunter anyways? Didn't you slip up?" 

Hadiden nodded. "I did, but usually when I was alone. Something would rattle in the forest, and I would get spooked. But I hunted alone, so usually I was all right. With the clan, nothing surprised me too much." 

"Who knew?" Varric asked. The elf bit his lip.

"My parents. They were the only ones who needed to know. It seems more and more people are learning about it now, which is really scary," Hadiden said, glancing at his drink. He wanted it but didn't at the same time. "Besides my parents, you, Solas, and Dorian know. All three of you shouldn't know."

"Why?"

The question stayed in the air, making an uncomfortable weight between the two of them. The elf didn't know how to answer, what to say, how to convey that they just shouldn't know. Everything was just stuck, and he didn't know how to make it move again. Why didn't he want them to know?

_Oh right._

"My father was from Kirkwall, like you. He had a younger brother who was taken to the Circle and was made tranquil." Hadiden stopped, looking towards the fire, away from Varric. "He made me believe that if anyone knew, I'd be taken to a Circle and made tranquil too. It... It made me hate it, fear it. I didn't want to be considered weird or wrong, or sent away. What... what I am is wrong."

Again, silence. Hadiden didn't want to continue.

"Listen, Hadi, nothing is wrong with you. My friend Hawke is... that. You see other people like Sparkler, Chuckles, the Iron Lady. They're all okay and nothing is wrong with them. You're perfectly fine." Varric was trying to reassure him, he could tell. He was doing like Dorian tried to do, to try and make him feel better. 

"Varric, I appreciate it, but I can't believe that. I've been telling myself different for so long," Hadiden said. Finally, he took the drink and chugged a bit of it. The burn of the liquid made him feel a bit better.

"Hey," Varric said. "I get that, but that won't stop me from helping you. You don't deserve to live in fear about what you are. I think I have a solution."

"What is it?" Hadiden asked, curious.

"I'll need to write a few letters, but I'll see if I can get Hawke to come. He can help with Corypheus and maybe can offer you a bit of peace."


	12. What is the First Step

The war table had been moved into the room beyond Josephine's office. There was so much work to be done, so many tasks to handle, and so little time. The elven Inquisitor tried to take in the map, to see what would happen after he made his mark on Thedas, but couldn't imagine it. He was a nobody from a Dalish clan. He shouldn't be shaping the world. But the Hero of Fereldan was a Dalish elf, and he too shaped the world from his work. Now he was the Missing Commander, and Hadiden thought if he could be found, then he could offer advice. But the Commander was missing, and the next hope for advice in changing the world came from the Champion of Kirkwall. The Champion would be arriving to Skyhold in a month or two. The idea of meeting a real hero made Hadiden nervous, along with him being a mage and knowing about Hadiden. 

The elf ran his hand over the map. The paper shifted under his touch, just like Thedas shifted under his choices. So much was changing, too much was changing, and it was all because of him.

"Inquisitor?" A voice asked behind Hadiden. The elf turned and looked at Mother Giselle. The Dalish smiled at the Mother and gestured her to enter.

"Yes, Mother Giselle? Is there something you need?" He asked, standing on the side his advisors usually stood. The Mother crossed the room, holding a paper in her hands. Hadiden raised an eyebrow.

"I would not bring this to your attention if I had not thought it important," she said. "I have noticed your growing... companionship with Master Pavus and thought it worthy of your attention to see this." Mother Giselle handed the elf a letter, one with curled letters that was too difficult to read. Hadiden handed the letter back to the Mother and blushed. 

"My apologies, Mother Giselle. I don't know how to read. Could you tell me what it says?" Hadiden asked. Again, the Mother gave the elf the letter, and this time, he held it. 

Mother Giselle sighed. "The letter is from Master Pavus' father-"

"Suspicious. Dorian says that his family is unhappy with him," Hadiden interrupted. Him and Dorian had been talking more, now that Dorian was his tutor for learning to read. It had only been a couple weeks of the teaching, but the two would talk a lot. Sometimes they wouldn't even go over his lessons, instead talking about their lives. There were minor flirts involved, ones in which Hadiden returned. It was harmless, hopefully. As much as a small part of Hadiden wanted Dorian to have actual feelings, a bigger part of the elf tried to ignore it. It was all games. But one of their discussions had been over Dorian's family. They weren't happy with him. 

"By what his father writes," Mother Giselle said, "is that he wishes to reconnect with his son, to put what disagreement they might have had behind them." Hadiden frowned. 

"Does this have something to do with Corypheus?" He asked. "Or the Inquisition? Why would his father write now?"

Mother Giselle sighed, shaking her head. "I do not know why the letter came now. What I do know is that Master Pavus' father does not want the Inquisition to be involved. That is why the letter was addressed to me rather than you. All his father wants is for his son back. A family retainer will be in Redcliffe, waiting for Master Pavus. I leave the decision to you, since you know the Tevinter best."

With that, Mother Giselle left the Inquisitor and the letter. Hadiden stared at the parchment, trying to decide what to do. He could lie to Dorian, to take him to Redcliffe and not let him know about his father. But that felt wrong; it felt wrong to lie to Dorian and not let him know. Dorian's family was upset with him, and it made no sense as to why his father wanted to meet with him now, or this retainer man. If he told Dorian, let him know, the Tevinter might get upset. But, it was better to know and let Dorian decide.

 

"My what? My father?" Dorian demanded. 

Hadiden's eyes widened as Dorian yanked the letter from him to examine it. The elf had simply just told Dorian that his father sent a letter, and the Tevinter went on a rampage over it. Half of the words went in one of Hadiden's ears and out the other. It was when Dorian made an exaggerated gesture with the paper and a loud groaning sound did Hadiden speak up.

"I don't know about this family retainer, but if you wish, we can see what it's about," Hadiden said, putting emphasis on the word _we._ the naïve part of Hadiden wanted the man close, to put his fear behind him. But the stronger part refused, his magic being a source of fear and the memory of Oliver too strong. But he could be a friend to Dorian, and now Dorian needed a friend. 

"I could bring Sera and Cassandra," he said. "They can run some errands while we meet with the retainer. We'll solve this, Dorian." Hadiden gave a half smile as Dorian faced him. He was trying to be reassuring, but Dorian looked upset. The elf swore that his bottom lip was quivering. What was between them?

"My father," Dorian started, "claims to know me. He doesn't know me, and what he does know amounts to nothing." The Tevinter sighed before folding the letter up, placing it with one of the books he kept attached to his hip. "If you wouldn't mind, I would appreciate your company to meet this retainer. If it turns out to be a kidnapper-"

"There'll be an arrow through his throat before you know it, promise," Hadiden said, earning a smile from Dorian. The elf bid the man farewell, still having more to attend to, but promised that they would make for Redcliffe in two days time. 

 

Hadiden needed air. His dreams had woken him in the night, frightening him more than usual. It was strange, not having Desire in a dream. When the demon was there, it felt almost safe. The elf knew what the demon wanted, could deny the demon just that, and the two made small talk. Just a few nights ago, the two had discussed Corypheus. Hadiden had asked what Desire knew about him, if anything in the Beyond could tell him what the magister was, but nothing was found. The demon could offer no advice as to what the creature was, nor where he came from. And it seemed that Desire was physically uncomfortable trying to speak of Corypheus, so Hadiden had stopped asking. But now, he wasn't visiting him. It felt weird, but Hadiden was actually worried about the demon. He had been there since Hadiden was a child. The demon had told the elf that he was watching until he was older, sure that he could understand a deal. So, with Desire gone, it felt wrong to escape to the dream world. 

So the elf found himself on his balcony, staring out into the night of Skyhold. The mountains were quiet, peaceful under their star covered blanket. The chilling breeze let Hadiden know that the night was real, that this was real, and that he wouldn't wake from it. It was nice, to have everything so quiet and peaceful. The Dalish wanted it to stay peaceful forever.

_"Quiet, perfect, just what I need. No one to see, no one to hurt, all alone. The night offers a shield, but also a dagger. Reminders, hints, give-a-ways to once were. If only I could leave, if only I could not be afraid. If only without magic. Don't understand, don't understand the fear. Why me? I'm not natural, am I? Why was I cursed? If only without magic."_

The elf whirled around to see the boy from Haven, the one that warned of Corypheus. He wasn't wearing his large hat, which made him look more like a ghost. Hadiden felt his back press against the railing to the balcony as the boy walked closer. The elf wanted to scream, but didn't.

"You're afraid of yourself," Cole said. "You don't like what you are, and you don't like who you are. It's troubling because you want to change, but changing would mean you lose yourself. There's so much pain."

"What are you talking about?" Hadiden demanded. Cole didn't move, just frowned. 

"I heard your pain and wanted to help, but I'm not sure how," the boy said. Hadiden shook his head, about to speak, when Cole added, "you don't like your magic because you think it makes everything bad. You assume that because you have magic, that you're bad. You... aren't bad. You want to help people."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Dalish said. Cole sat down and looked up at the sky.

_"Bleeding, hurting, so much pain. He needs help, and I need him to escape here. Please don't die, please don't leave me. How could he rescue me? He doesn't owe me life, doesn't owe me anything. Why did he come? So warm, so good, why is he here? Can't trust him, shouldn't trust him, will turn out like him. But he came, found me. I helped him, saved him. He believes in me._ Your thoughts are very loud. But not all are sad. You have a lot of fear and pain. Why are you keeping it in?" Cole asked. Hadiden felt the sting of tears, like the boy in front of him was forcing all the pain he built up inside to push forward. Hadiden felt so weak.

The Dalish wiped his eyes, hoping the tears would go away before they fell down his cheeks. A couple gulps and a deep breath before Hadiden said, "It's all I know how to do."

"You could talk to Varric, or Dorian. Or anyone, really. Everyone here likes you, I can hear it," Cole said. Hadiden shook his head and forced a laugh. 

"They would think something was wrong with me, or I was possessed. It's better that nobody knows," Hadiden said quietly. The tears were flowing, like a waterfall. This boy was making all the pain he forced down to come to the surface. All those times that his parents would look at him when something happened in camp, all those times he made a small fire in the woods came back, flooding. Every single second after showing Oliver his magic fogged his thinking, bringing back childhood heart break. The memories of faces of the other children of the clan, those that would play with him until he began to push them away, returned. The hurt looks of his companions as he yanked away from them, the concern on Solas' and Varric's faces made the tears rush down Hadiden's cheeks. The look of worry in Dorian's eyes when he rescued him in the mountain made the elf fall to his knees, sobbing. It hurt, it all hurt. His heart was tight, his stomach aching like he was kicked. His brain was fuzzy with all the memories of disappointment caused by his magic. The elf tried to cover his mouth, to keep the pained sounds from escaping, but they wouldn't stop. Everything he had done, had been doing, making himself to be _this,_ was stabbing at him. He was so afraid, so hurt, how was he to recover? Years were spent worrying, hurting, and all it took to realize it was a boy telling him he was afraid. Hadiden could have been so different, so brave and strong, but was currently a crying mess because he just couldn't handle what was running through his veins. 

"The pain goes away," Cole whispered. "Time will heal the pain, but your soul will be scarred. I think admitting to yourself that you're okay will make it hurt less. Talking will probably help too. I want to help, Hadiden."

The elf wasn't quite done crying, not really. The tears were racing down his cheeks, running their own race to his neck and jaw. Hadiden bent his knees to his chest, his back against the balcony pillars. He stared up into the night sky, trying to regain control of himself. He knew Cole was sitting in front of him, cross legged. He needed a moment before answering the farm boy.

_"So much bottled pain. I can't believe I'm hurting myself like this. Too many years, too much time has passed since I can remember not being afraid. I never wanted this, never asked for it. Don't know where to start, don't understand how to restart. It hurts, hurts so much. If only without magic,"_ Cole said. "The magic isn't the problem. It's your fear tied to the magic, or at least the fearful memories." Hadiden let a pained sob past his lips, unable to control that. Cole needed to stop saying that word.

It was a surprise when Cole was curled around Hadiden, hugging. At first, the elf tried to fight away, to try and let Cole know he could be hurt being so close, but the boy didn't move. He just held onto Hadiden, whispering kind words that some how soothed Hadiden. Instead of his silent cries into the night, the elf was making weak whimpering noises. Cole was hugging, nuzzling his head to Hadiden's neck while his arms were around the elf's chest. Said elf began to calm, both from being touched and crying. Cole had a point, Hadiden knew it. But the fact of the matter was that it would be much harder to actually change his fear to acceptance than the boy realized. Slowly, though, Hadiden reached a hand around to hug Cole back. The contact was different and felt nice. Hadiden missed it.

"I hope I help," Cole mumbled.

"You have, Cole," Hadiden said. "You've helped quite a bit."

 

"Cass, Sera, I need you two to stay here at the Crossroads. I was told by Josephine that there's going to be a group of volunteers showing up today. They want to join the Inquisition," Hadiden said. The two women were standing in front of him, Dorian behind him. It was a surprise when he was told about the volunteers, but was quite happy. If he could have them take care of the volunteers, then he and Dorian could make for the village and meet the retainer. 

"Aye, why do I gotta do it?" Sera asked, making Cassandra roll her eyes and groan. Hadiden sighed.

"Most of these volunteers will be villagers, farm hands, and apprentices. Sera, you're doing this because they're little people, and seeing you with the Inquisition could probably boost morale," Hadiden said. "Plus, find out what you can from them, whether it be of prickish nobles or what." The suggestion of finding dirty secrets made Sera smile. 

"Right then, I can do that," she said.

Cassandra nodded. "I will evaluate them, correct?" Hadiden nodded.

"Make sure they can pick up a sword and shield. If not, see about daggers or a bow. If Cullen can't train them, have them sent to Scout Harding for Leliana, she's always in the need for more spies. If we still have volunteers but they can't fight, we'll find a place for them. No one's help will be turned down." Hadiden nearly bit his lip before adding, "Dorian and I need to go into the village. We're meeting someone, possible ties to more lyrium. We shouldn't be long, but if you have to, make for Skyhold without us. We'll regroup there." Cassandra and Sera nodded, allowing for Hadiden and Dorian to travel on their own to Redcliffe village. 

 

Redcliffe village was calmer now that the Tevinter magister was gone. The remaining mages and villagers were getting along. Businesses were opened, such as a smithy and armor shop. There was a general goods shop, and down by the water was a shop for ancient tomes. There were villagers walking around, pleasant and happy. It was as though Redcliffe had never been under magister control. Then again, these people had had an angry undead army attack them every night for a long while until the Hero of Fereldan stopped it. If they could recover from that, it made sense that they could recover from Tevinter control. 

It was inside the tavern that made Hadiden's hairs stand up. The usually packed bar was completely empty. Chairs were stacked on the table, the glasses at the bar were cleaned and flipped, unused, and everything was silent. The elf looked at Dorian, frowning. The man had worry lines, obviously uncomfortable by the empty tavern. Hadiden was about to suggest that they leave when a creaking noise sent them both on high alert.

"Dorian," a man's voice called. Over to where the stairs to the rooms were stood a man. Said man was older, wearing bright colored robes that were no doubt a mage's robes. The design didn't say Fereldan or Orlaisan. They didn't look Antivan or Nevarran either. The way his dark hair was combed back reminded Hadiden of someone, and the bit of facial hair put the connection to who he was. 

Dorian almost growled as he said, "Father. I should have known. There was no family retainer, was there?" He demanded. Dorian's father sighed, looking at his son then the elf. The hate in those eyes told Hadiden that Mister Pavus didn't like him. That was all right. 

"It seems," he started, "that you were informed of the meeting. But no, there was no retainer. I just wanted-"

"Wanted what? A family reunion?" Dorian asked, spiteful venom covering his words. Hadiden didn't say anything. He was a mediator.

"Dorian, I don't understand why-"

"Of course not!" Dorian shouted. Before he knew it, the Tevinter man was looking at the Dalish elf. "You wished to know why my family was unhappy with me? I prefer the company of men, which my father cannot accept."

_The company of men._

Hadiden felt his heart stop at those words. Dorian liked men? The elf had guessed, had hoped, but didn't make the connection. Part of him was thrilled to hear that their flirting was possibly genuine, that Dorian fancied him. Another part of him was terrified. Dorian liked men, meaning that their flirting was possibly not for nothing. But the idea of Dorian preferring men and his father not accepting it confused Hadiden. What was wrong with it? The Dalish didn't condone it for the fact that a same sex bond didn't produce children. Tevinter had enough people, enough humans. What was wrong with two men being together? 

But the elf didn't ask that. Instead, he asked, "what's wrong with liking men?"

Dorian laughed. "In Tevinter, the families are intermarried to insure the perfect child, the perfect heir, the perfect mage. My parents were matched and hoped for just that, but were given me. And Maker forbid that."

"Dorian, please," Dorian's father pleaded. Dorian wouldn't listen. The man walked up to his father, towering over him. 

"You tried to change me because I wasn't what you wanted nor did I want to play pretend for my life. Why should I hear what you have to say?" There was pain in Dorian's voice. Hadiden wanted to tell him nothing was wrong. But Dorian moved away from his father and stood at the bar, staring at his hands. Hadiden walked to his companion, standing beside him. He could hear the huffing breath from Dorian, as though he just finished fighting a demon. The Dalish looked at the Tevinter's profile, looking at his features.

"I know you're upset," he whispered. "I think you're perfect the way you are, Dorian. But you should at least talk with him. I don't think he left Tevinter just to make you angry." Hadiden honestly didn't want Dorian to talk with his father. The elf really wanted to go and punch the man in the face. Dorian was perfect, and changing him would be a crime. But Hadiden didn't want Dorian to leave things between his father and him hostile. If he could, the elf would go to his clan to apologize for every harsh thing he did to his father, for every mean glare and hated word. Dorian had a chance to at least make amens with his father. He could bury some guilt. 

It seemed that Dorian understood at least a little of what Hadiden was trying to tell him because he walked over to his father. Dorian sighed and asked, "why did you come here, Father?"

The older Pavus looked at his son before saying, "I just wanted to see my son one more time."

Dorian growled out, "and I wanted a father that I could trust. I once had one that I did trust and looked up to." 

The Tevinter turned away from his father, without another word. He was walking towards the door, about to leave. Hadiden wasn't going to stop him, to make him stay. But his father said, "and I once had a son that trusted me, in which I betrayed that trust, and I am sorry."

There was silence in the tavern. Dorian's hand laid on the handle, about ready to go, before he turned to look at his father. Hadiden looked between the two before going to the door, looking at Dorian. The elf whispered something, something along the lines of waiting outside if Dorian wanted a moment. The human nodded and started to walk back to his father. Hadiden watched a moment before going back outside, being nearly blinded by the sunlight. Hopefully their talk didn't take too long. 

 

The two had to make camp in the Hinderlands that night. The discussion between Dorian and his father had taken enough time that the sun was down within hours. The elf didn't mind since he was tired, having to deal with awing villagers that couldn't believe the Herald was in Redcliffe. Hadiden had spent too much time dealing with people that he almost missed Dorian walking out of the tavern. When he did see the Tevinter man, the Dalish excused himself and nearly sprinted to him. It went without saying that Dorian didn't talk much. Something was on his mind and part of Hadiden didn't want to press the issue. Another part was curious. 

So there they were, solo adventurers in the middle of the Hinderlands, waiting for morning to continue their travels to Skyhold. Hadiden had gotten a scout for one of their forward camps to send word to Cassandra and Sera, to let them know they were behind them. The elf didn't mind being behind them, seeing as Dorian probably didn't want a lot of company. 

Dorian was seated on a log in front of the fire when Hadiden came back to their camp, having gone to gather more wood for the fire. The Tevinter was just staring into the fire, not even flipping through his book. He wasn't even playing games with the fire, like he sometimes did. One time, as Varric was telling a story on their way to Skyhold, Dorian had created figures and images in the fire to entertain the children that gathered. Hadiden had been memorized by the display of skill and a little envious. Dorian seemed quite proud to have had helped Varric entertain and tell a story. 

But the elf laid the wood down beside the fire. It would be used later. Hadiden decided to sit on the log beside Dorian, leaving a space between them, and studied his profile. His worry lines were relaxed, but the way he was just staring made Hadiden sad. Usually Dorian liked the bit of attention Hadiden gave him, like the staring from afar. Hadiden sighed. 

"I don't know what you two talked about," he said, "but I want you to know that I think you're perfect the way you are, Dorian. Whatever your father tried to do to change you was a dumb idea." The elf watched, waited. He wouldn't say more unless Dorian prompted it. It was the Tevinter's turn to sigh.

"My father tried to use blood magic," he said lowly. "He had tried to change my mind the moment he found out that I wouldn't play pretend my whole life." There was a pause. Hadiden didn't push, just listened. Dorian rubbed his face and groaned. "I wasn't going to spend my life miserable, marry the girl, and pretend that everything was spitefully happy. My father couldn't have that. So, he tried blood magic. I was," Dorian stopped, shaking his head. "I was in disbelief that the man that taught me to hate blood magic would resort to it once his heir refused his wishes." 

There was silence between the two. Dorian said nothing more, and Hadiden didn't add anything. It was nice to see Dorian getting something off his chest, something so big. Hadiden wanted to reach out more to him. 

The elf moved an inch closer, which made Dorian look at him. The Tevinter had locked tears. That made the elf's heart hurt. 

"You know," Hadiden started, "I understand what you meant, by knowing what it's like to be something your parents didn't want. I guess I assumed that because you are a Tevinter mage and I'm a Dalish hunter that we were nothing alike." Hadiden tried to smile. "But I understand now that you do understand me a little more than I thought." Dorian gave a laugh smile and a forced laugh.

"Maker must know what you think of me now after hearing my sob story," Dorian said. Hadiden shook his head. 

"I think you're brave." That caught Dorian off guard. Hadiden continued saying, "you're brave enough to be who you are, Dorian. I don't think any less of you." Hadiden paused, wanting to bite his tongue, but said, "I think more of you now, in fact." That got a real laugh from Dorian. 

"At first, I was doubtful of your confession today, about fancying men," Dorian said. Hadiden felt a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "But after hearing that, I have no doubts." 

Their quiet banter continued until Dorian started yawning. Hadiden offered taking the first shift so that Dorian could sleep. The Tevinter gladly took the second watch so that he could try and sleep. The elf was pleased to have some time alone, if only to berate himself for the flirting. If he could stop doing that, he could stop the heart ache of Dorian leaving. 

 

When Hadiden arrived back to Skyhold with Dorian, the Tevinter man left him as Josephine came running to meet him. Following behind the Antivan woman was Varric, who looked to be clinging to her side like a child did a mother. It went without saying that the two of them started to rapidly tell Hadiden what the problem was, but the elf literally got nothing but jumbled words. 

"Varric, Josephine, stop a moment!" He said. The two of them calmed down. Hadiden sighed. "What's the problem?"

"Cassandra is trying to kill me!" Varric shouted. Josephine looked at the dwarf then the elf. 

"The Champion of Kirkwall is here, and Lady Cassandra is not pleased with Varric's lying," she said, looking worried. Cassandra being angry was almost as bad as Corypheus attacking. The elf looked between his two panicked friends. 

"Okay," he said. "Okay. Varric, take me to Hawke. Josephine, you'll distract Cassandra from killing Varric until I can talk with her. I don't want this dwarf's blood spilled," Hadiden said as Varric cheered. The elf glared and added, "until I know why he lied." The made Varric groan. The elf knew he had to act a bit threatening, not having doubted Varric once, but knew Cassandra would need to hear that Varric would be handled by the Inquisitor. 

"Fine, fine," Varric said. "Let's go see Hawke before the Seeker comes and rips my head from my shoulders." 

Hadiden couldn't help but feel nervous about meeting Varric's friend. From the stories he heard from the dwarf, the human sounded like a legend. He sounded heroic, charming, and dreamy. It was simple enough to say Hadiden had a crush on the Champion. He had imagined a tall, strong man, black locks pushed back like Cullen's. He imagined the Champion's eyes were shining gems, like the finest sovereign. The day dreams were exactly true, though.

On the ramparts, above the tavern, stood a man. His black hair was unruly, much like Hadiden's but a bit shorter. His beard wasn't as long as Blackwall's beard, but he did have a tamed beard and mustache. There was a big red mark across the bridge of his nose, which Hadiden couldn't tell if it was paint, blood, or a scar. His eyes were gold, but not a shining one. It was more the color of a late sunset. Beautiful, but not the story book color Hadiden had imagined. 

Varric smiled, as though his tales were meant to disappoint. "Inquisitor, this is Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall."

The man looked physically uncomfortable from the name and sighed. "Varric," he said. "I don't go by that title much anymore. Varric is the only one to call me that." Hawke looked Hadiden up and down before adding, "a pleasure, Inquisitor."

The elf gave a half smile. "My name is Hadiden Lavellan. No need to address me by my title." Hadiden brushed some hair from his face. "I'm not quite comfortable with being called the Inquisitor yet." 

The statement made the human laugh, which died shortly after it was uttered. "I can understand that. My actual name is Samuel, Samuel Hawke. Varric and all of Thedas refuses to call me that. But Varric said that you have a problem that I can help with?"

The elf looked at the dwarf. Said dwarf was sitting on a crate, taking a drink of wine. "I let him know the basics. Corypheus attacked, the little accident you had with me, and you're pretty damn confused." 

Hadiden sighed. "Thank you, Varric," he said. He looked at the Champion and walked over to the edge. Both of them looked over the side, looking at the people bustling. Hadiden was responsible for them; he was their last line of defense against Corypheus and their first line of hope. Their fears and worries were piled onto him, crushing him. If he messed up, their lives were in danger. The idea shook him to the core. 

"Reminds me of my home in Kirkwall," Samuel said. Hadiden looked at the man as he spoke; "I loved the view at first. I liked seeing the people, half of which didn't know my name. But... After the Qunari attack and I was named Champion, so much weight was added to looking out into that city." 

Hadiden looked down, trying to see where Samuel was looking. Down below, two mages were running around. It took a moment, but the elf realized that they were children, not older than ten years old. 

"Fenris liked the view though, even after my title came," Samuel admitted. "I wondered if he fully understood how much fear those people put on me. But he would tell me to stop looking at the people and to notice the scenery. The pressure of those people never let up, still hasn't," he said before looking at the elf. "You're doing fine, you know."

The Dalish shook his head. He didn't believe he was doing okay, not really. "How did you do it?" He asked. "How did you keep it a secret from the Knight-Commander?" The question made Samuel laugh, this time a little longer than the first.

"You know, as much as you want to believe it's hidden, it never really is," Hawke said. "You force it, act as though it isn't you when something happens, but sooner than you realize, it comes out and not worth hiding. For you, it's a different case; you were raised hating it. For me, my father trained me and let me embrace it. But... when Bethany died and my father, I blamed my magic. The fear of it, the hatred, that's what causes it to act out. While it may seem easier to just ignore, to pretend it doesn't exist or isn't a part of you, it is. It's a big part." There was a pause. Hadiden felt the pin pricks of tears again. They didn't hurt as much as the night, but they still hurt. 

"I'm not telling you to accept it right now, to put on a grand show of power, but one day, admitting what you are might be easier than hurting yourself." Samuel smiled at the elf. A half smile, one that showed years of pain. 

"Thank you, Samuel," Hadiden said. He really did appreciate the kind words. He should have felt embarrassed, a feeling other than fear usually associated with his magic, but he didn't. He felt ashamed. Whether it was over his magic or simply hiding it, Hadiden couldn't say.

There was one more problem that Samuel had come to discuss, and it seemed both the Champion and Inquisitor didn't want to actually talk about it. Hawke gave what he knew about Corypheus, which didn't help Hadiden too much. A darkspawn magister that couldn't be killed didn't sound like a good thing. But a friend, Hawke's friend, could help. A Warden named Stroud. He was hiding out in Crestwood, which was where Samuel planned to go. The Champion asked Hadiden to meet him there, not soon but they needed to meet. The Inquisitor agreed to it. Another person that could offer how to take down Corypheus was always welcome.

It was when Samuel Hawke had to go that Varric got nervous. Hadiden had seen Samuel off, telling him to write so. Hadiden said he would, with help, and if he had questions that they would be sent to the mage as soon as possible. Samuel seemed pleased to see Hadiden making an attempt at admitting what he was, but had to go. Once the Champion was off Skyhold's footprint, the dwarf began acting funny. 

"Well, shit," he said. Hadiden raised an eyebrow. "Cassandra is going to want me dead, again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was fun to write, sad Inquisitor and kind of sad Dorian. I'm trying to get more chapters going, for this fic and A Chained Halla. If anyone as advise, lemme know. Also, I might do a Christmas thing for Hadiden?? So watch out for that??


	13. The Walking Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is long over due. I'm so sorry for a delay on this chapter since I've been busy with finishing school. 
> 
> There's more coming and I promise there won't be another long delay!

Seeing Solas in a dream was the first warning sign that something was wrong. Hadiden still wasn't over their first Fade adventure back to Haven. It wasn't real, yet it was, yet it was a memory. He didn't like thinking about it, not one bit. So to see Solas, hunched down in his Beyond, his place of solitude, it made Hadiden feel on edge. 

"Solas?" The younger elf called. He watched the bald elf slowly stand, turning to face his caller. At first he looked confused, as if wondering who said his name, but the moment he seen Hadiden's face, he smiled.

"Inquisitor," he said. "I had not expected you to roam your dream."

"What are you doing?" Hadiden asked. He took tentative steps towards the other elf, frowning. What had he been hunched over? What did he mean?

But the bald elf shrugged, clicking his tongue. 

"Since my last journey here, when we went to Haven, I felt a strong presence and couldn't tell whether it was friend or foe," Solas explained. Hadiden continued to frown.

"You must have sensed my friend," he said. The older elf raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't find any sort of benevolent spirit here. I found a desire demon lurking about. I decided to set wards for you since you're a-"

"You did what?" Hadiden demanded. His voice came out like fire. His words felt like venom on his lips as he spoke. "Solas, what do you mean by you set wards?"

"Exactly that," Solas said. "I set wards to make sure the demon did not attempt to tempt you-"

"You. Did. What?" Hadiden almost shouted, his blood rising. In contrast to his words, Hadiden could feel ice forming around his feet. His magic hadn't acted like this in quite some time. He never made ice like this since what happened with Oliver. Solas was causing the same rush of emotions, same panic, same _fear_ that he felt all those years ago. Solas had set wards to get rid of Desire. His friend was banished because some random mage decided that he couldn't handle himself in the Beyond. He wanted to strangle the man in front of him.

But the other elf didn't seem to take notice of his rage. He simply said, "I made wards to insure your safety. You have to agree-"

"No!" Hadiden shouted. The next thing he knew he was sweating, panting, sitting straight up in his bed. 

No, not his bed. His bedroll. It smelt like wet grass, the patter of water on rocks told Hadiden exactly what he needed to know. He was in Crestwood, or at least almost there. Something about a village, attacks, a Warden. His information was coming back slowly, but one thing he was hanging onto was what he learned in the Beyond.

Solas got rid of Desire. 

Hadiden slowly crawled out of his tent, ignoring the sleeping form beside him. He couldn't even tell who was beside him at the present, didn't care to remember, only wanted out. His feet felt the wet, mushy grass. He didn't care. His only friend was forced away because a mage said so. A mage that didn't care about him, only cared because he was hiding it. Desire was his friend, despite being a demon. He was there when Hadiden barely understood certain parts of him, and now he was gone. He was gone and Hadiden couldn't do a thing to bring him back. 

The elf screamed. He would wake the camp up, was sure of it, but Fen'Harel take him. Said elf grabbed a rock beside his foot and threw it, threw it into the night. He heard it hit something, something in the distance, and proceeded to grab another one. Hadiden screamed again as he threw the next rock, forcing his emotions to travel with it. He watched that one and watched ice form around it. Creators curse him, of course it was covered in ice. His curse was acting out now that his emotions were out of balance. 

There was clatter behind the elf before sleepy figures fought their ways out of their tents. The Dalish elf turned around to watch a sleepy Dorian stumble out of the tent Hadiden came out of, his robe half put on and his staff upside down. Cole was almost as bad, missing his hat but luckily had both daggers in hand. He thankfully wasn't holding them by the blade. Blackwall's beard was messy, his shield upside down and he was holding the case for his sword. Where was his actual sword? 

"What in Maker's name is going on?" Blackwall demanded. Hadiden watched as the three all calmed down after realizing there was no real danger. The elf in question sighed.

"Ir abelas, everyone. I just... had a bad dream," Hadiden admitted. It was Cole who spoke next.

"He hurt your friend," he said. Blackwall and Dorian looked at the farm boy. "His friend?" Dorian asked. Cole nodded. "His friend. He hurt him, or made him go away and it's making Hadiden very sad. Or very mad.

_"Haunting. Hurting. What is he doing here? He shouldn't be here. Hasn't been here since Haven. Get out, go away, this is mine. My place. You hurt my friend, made him go away. Make it stop, make him come back. I want him back. He's my friend. My friend. He's gone and won't come back. Can't come back. How?"_

Hadiden felt his ears heat up. He glanced away from his companions before muttering, "thank you, Cole, for explaining what happened. Or reading what's in my head. Kindly stop that now."

The elf rubbed the back of his neck. It was raining, he was cold, his feet were probably piled with mud. In the distance, Hadiden could barely make out the rising sun. It was going to be morning in a few hours, making it too early to go back to sleep. A bit of guilt filled Hadiden as he realized that he woke his party for no reason. But a bit of that guilt was clouded by his anger for Solas. Why did that man think it was his right to block what happened in Hadiden's dreams? He hadn't been possessed in twenty years, so why would Solas think it was a good idea to ward Desire away? There was no problem! Hadiden knew what to say, to avoid possession, and it angered him that Solas took a trip to his dream and messed everything up. It wasn't right, and Hadiden had no idea how to destroy the wards. 

"Well, I suppose we should pack up camp and make towards Crestwood since we're up. What do you say, Inquisitor?" Blackwall asked. The Inquisitor meekly nodded and watched Cole and Blackwall disappear into their tent. Hadiden decided to wait a moment. It wasn't like his armor was going anywhere, neither was his bow or damn shoes. He stared at his feet, not bothered by the mud at all. His silent debate in his head (whether he should shoot an arrow through Solas' throat or not) was interrupted by a certain Tevinter sitting on the rock beside Hadiden. The elf looked to him a moment, watching him work his buckles and straps to get his robes on correctly. What a waste of time, that outfit. Hadiden couldn't figure out how he moved or functioned in his armor. It was... it wasn't right? It was jeweled and flashy, whereas Hadiden's blended in with the forest like it should. Dorian could attract attention all the way in Antiva with his outfit while Hadiden wouldn't be seen from Tevinter in his. But the elf never asked. It wasn't important.

"You talk in your sleep. Did you know that?" Dorian asked, buckling his boots. Hadiden nodded. Varric had told him about his talking. Dorian frowned. "Given what I know, I couldn't tell if you were fighting or having a night terror."

The Dalish elf shook his head, looking back down at his feet. "It was a little of both," he admitted. "Someone decided they were going to change things for me." Hadiden scoffed the word _wards_ and kicked the mud. It made a splash which made Dorian huff. The man didn't seem to like the mud... or the wilderness. He wasn't as bad as Varric, given that the dwarf complained a lot when they went to the Storm Coast. Hadiden swore he never heard anyone else ever complain about slopes, rain, rocks, and the sea more than Varric. Oh, and he also complained about the demons, but was pretty happy when Hadiden nearly had his head cut off by the leader of the Blades of Hessarian. He should have given Cassandra the chance to challenge the leader. But, they had loyal mercenaries, and Varric had the chance to sleep in a cabin instead of a wet tent. 

"Dorian," the elf said. A thought struck him. "Do you know anything about wards? For demons or spirits?" Hadiden asked. The Tevinter man raised his eyebrows. There was a heart beat or two that passed before he said, "not particularly, but I could find the answer, no doubt. It would possibly depend on the type of ward, whether for spirit or demon." There was no questioning followed, no further explanation. Just acceptance, and Hadiden hoped that Dorian would find the answer. There shouldn't be a reason that Hadiden would want to bring Desire back, but for some reason, it was a comfort to have the demon there. It felt normal. It was a struggle, every night not agreeing to a deal, but it was okay. Hadiden had been doing it for years now. He wanted the normal back and forth conversations back.

"Blackwall says that if you don't get ready to leave soon that you two will get last watch tonight!" Cole called to the two. Hadiden gave a half smile towards Dorian. 

"Come on, best we get going," Hadiden said. Dorian smiled back, making Hadiden's heart flutter.

"Fair enough. We have demons to kill and rifts to close."

 

Undead. More undead. If the Fallow Mire hadn't had enough walking corpses, there had to be more here.

While there was a comfort fighting the walking dead with a couple Wardens, Hadiden _really_ hated dead things. The dead should stay dead, stay buried in the ground where they belong. Nothing that was void of life should be crawling out of the ground, picking up weapons, and fighting. That wasn't normal! Hadiden hated it and honestly wanted to use the Anchor to send them to the Beyond. Maybe then they would stay dead. 

And to be told by the Mayor of Crestwood that the dead was attacking New Crestwood, that the dead were coming from Old Crestwood, Hadiden was ready to pack a bag for himself and march back to Skyhold alone. Dead things shouldn't be alive! 

"Undead... Always undead. Why can't they stay dead? That's what they're supposed to be; dead..." Hadiden grumbled as they walked from the Crestwood dam down to Old Crestwood. There was no doubt that they would see more undead, so he had reason to complain. Blackwall must have been listening because he asked, "the Inquisitor, the man to face down an ancient magister darkspawn, has a problem with corpses?"

Hadiden huffed. "Not just corpses. If they're in a tomb or in the ground and not moving, I'm okay. When they take up swords or bows against me and move, then I have a problem!"

"You know that darkspawn are technically undead, correct?" Blackwall asked. Hadiden threw his hands in the air, huffing out, "yes! I know! That doesn't make them any better! They're sick, blighted creatures and one of the very first one of them wants me dead, my head on a pike and my hand delivered on a silver platter, and knowing they're undead does _not_ help me." 

Someone started laughing. Probably Dorian. Hadiden wasn't going to turn around and face him because it was not funny. He really didn't like dead creatures, and he was already angry from Solas, so today was turning into a pretty bad day. Maybe, when he returned to Skyhold, he would check with Leliana to see if his clan wrote back to him. He needed a mood booster and wanted to forget about what Solas did. He also missed his clan dearly and hoped they were doing well. Hadiden didn't want Clan Lavellan to assume that the Inquisition kidnapped him and he was held hostage... like he was for the first three days he joined. 

"Our fearless leader, who can stare down ancient magisters, has a phobia of walking corpses," Dorian said behind Hadiden. Before the elf could retort with something, anything, he said, "you do know that I've been studying necromancy. The study of making dead things live again with magic."

"Of course you are!" Hadiden shouted. All three men, besides the elf, started laughing. Hadiden hadn't figured Cole would laugh, but the spirit farm boy was laughing with the Warden and Tevinter. This day was worsening with every passing minute it seemed. 

"Let's just go get this done so I don't have to see another corpse for awhile," Hadiden said, seeing a door back behind the mayor's old house. Maybe that lead to the rift under the water.

 

"They just wanted to get away, but the water made them go to sleep," Cole said. Hadiden frowned, a shiver going up his spine. That wasn't comforting to hear; that the people of Old Crestwood wanted to get away but died. It didn't help seeing their corpses either and having to worry if they'd come back to life. 

As they trucked through the caverns, Hadiden couldn't help but piece what knowledge they had found to figure out what all the bodies were doing in the caves. The mayor had said that the Blight had come to Crestwood, and darkspawn had broken the floodgates, flooding the town. But the gates were in almost perfect condition. Cole had said something about the gates being fixed by the mayor, but if he did fix the gates, why hadn't he open the gates to let the water out of the town? Why was there still water in Old Crestwood?

"Does this situation strike anyone as strange?" Hadiden asked, walking down the ramp to face Dwarven ruins. He took a moment to look at the red, glowing rocks in the walls. The elf stepped up to the walls to try and touch the rocks, but pulled his hand back. Something didn't feel right about touching them. 

"The walls or the walking dead of Crestwood?" Dorian asked. Hadiden turned around to look at the Tevinter and sighed. "Not the walls, Dorian. Everything seems so strange about the mayor and Crestwood and all the dead walking. There's too many corpses to just be from the rift, right?"

"Didn't the mayor say that a lot of the towns folk died during the Blight?" Blackwall asked. Hadiden shook his head. "That doesn't explain why all the bodies were in piles. It also doesn't explain why there are bodies down here, and why Cole said they were trying to escape. Something is very wrong here."

The party was quiet for a moment. Maybe what Hadiden had said was sinking in, processing in their minds. He was right, though, wasn't he? There was something very wrong about the situation. 

"Come on," he said. "The sooner we're through here, kill the rage demon and close the rift, the sooner we can find the mayor and question him." Nods all around made Hadiden feel comfortable about moving forward, deeper into the ruins.

 

"He left."

Of all the things, of course the mayor had to leave. He just had to leave and write down his confession of drowning all those poor people in Old Crestwood. Granted, they were sick with the Blight, but that can't be the solution to flooding a whole town. There were children in Old Crestwood, mothers and fathers and older people. A pain in Hadiden's heart flared as he thought of his clan in the position of Old Crestwood. The sudden thought made the elf physically sick, wanting nothing to happen to the people that raised him. To have his clan drowned would mean his mother, father, Keeper, and all his friends and family would be dead. That couldn't happen, wouldn't happen. While he may be on rocky terms with them (in his mind), he would do anything to protect Clan Lavellan. 

Hadiden sighed and ran a hand through his wet hair. "We should return to Skyhold. I need to tell Leliana about this, maybe have some spies look for him. I also want to talk with Varric about what he knows about Hawke's Warden friend and why there's other Wardens looking for him, considering that Blackwall has no idea."

Blackwall looked to the side as Hadiden looked at him. "My apologies, Inquisitor. I was looking for new recruits and hadn't gotten the order to go looking for this rogue Warden." Hadiden waved his hand, brushing the apology away. It was fine, sort of. He just needed more information. 

Honestly, Hadiden needed more information with everything happening. 

 

The march back to Skyhold was too long. He needed to do so much; he needed to talk to Varric, to ask Leliana to send scouts for the mayor, and most of all, find Solas. The Dalish elf even ignored Cassandra and Josephine walking up to him, saying something that completely missed him. He didn't notice them following him as he ran right to the room where Solas usually was. The women followed him as he found the older elf, painting on his wall. The Dalish walked up to him, ignoring his greeting and small smile as he shoved him by the shoulders against the wall. There were suddenly no boundaries, no restraints. Hadiden had no second thoughts about touching another person because he was steaming over his thoughts since Solas appeared in his dreams.

"I-Inquisitor-"

"How dare you!" Hadiden yelled. "Who gave you the authority to do as you please to me?" Hadiden demanded. The older elf stammered out some answer. It was mumbled Elvish, which Hadiden was too busy to translate. 

"I don't want an excuse!" Hadiden said. "I want it reversed as soon as possible. And if you don't undo it, I'll have Dorian undo it." 

The Dalish elf let go of Solas, taking half a step back and watching the way the older elf's eyes darted around the room. He seemed to be focused on something over Hadiden's shoulder, which the younger elf paid no mind to. 

"You would trust the Tevinter?" Solas asked. Hadiden almost _growled_. 

"I trust him more than you at this point, Solas," Hadiden retorted. "May the Dread Wolf find you Solas, for this won't be forgiven easily." 

The Dalish elf turned on his heels, seeing Josephine and Cassandra there, staring. It was the first time that he had been assertive to anyone since joining the Inquisition, and bluntly expressing a threat. He asked the advisor and Seeker to brief him on their current status as he walked to the war room, both women a step behind him. He passed by Varric on his way to the war room, and the dwarf jumped back half a foot to stay out of his way. He must have been radiating a powerful aura of people we side stepping away from him, being careful not to be in his way. Hadiden sort of liked the feeling of being feared, but only for a split second. It wasn't him, not at all. He was pure rage and needed time to cool down. Once his attitude and feelings subsided, he return to his normally soft spoken and gentler self. For now, though, red rage was controlling him. 

"Inquisitor," Cullen greeted. Hadiden gave a nod and walked to the map, spreading his hands against it. Stability. 

"Commander. What's the status of the troops and new recruits?" Hadiden asked. He needed to get straightened out.

"Training hard, Inquisitor. They'll be ready when you call."

"Good. Josephine, status on our invitation to the Winter Palace?" 

"We are getting close. I am currently setting up a meeting with the Empress's brother to see if we can get our invitations from him. I am also scheduling a class for you to learn to waltz," Josephine said, glancing at her clip board. Hadiden opened his mouth to say something then closed it. 

"I appreciate your help and planning Josephine. Keep up the work and keep applying pressure for those invitations," Hadiden said. Josephine smiled and checked off something on her list. "Leliana, anything to report?"

The spy master nodded. "Regarding your clan, they wrote to us. They appreciate the words of your safety and offer a few supplies. Your mother attached a note if you wish to review it once this is over."

Hadiden felt cold, as if all the heat from his rage suddenly left him. A letter personally from his mother was sent to him. Hadiden's steeled personality faded as quickly as his anger and his shoulders fell. The elf gave a small smile and nodded. 

"Of course," he said. "And I have a few things to discuss with you, Leliana."


	14. Scheduling the Inquisitor

"Darling, have you never danced before?"

The Enchanter, Vivienne, was laying on Hadiden's couch. She looked graceful, as if she was waiting to be made into a painting. Hadiden had only just gotten up the stairs to his chambers when he noticed the woman. He was at first shocked to see her, not used to people intruding his own space. 

"I danced with my clan, if that counts," Hadiden admitted. "We would make a fire and have drinks, a couple of the clans members playing drums while a few sang. The rest of us would dance."

"No darling," Vivienne said. "I mean waltzing." With that, Hadiden shook his head. What was a waltzing?

The woman on the couch lifted and walked around the smaller elf. Hadiden knew he wasn't tall, and in the moment, as Vivienne sized him up, he realized just how short he was. The taller woman stroked down Hadiden's hair, making him flinch away. There was an apology muttered from her, but Hadiden paid no mind to it. Reflexes. 

"I see. Well, it seems we have to start with the basics of dancing."

"Which is?" Hadiden asked. He turned to fully face Vivienne. The woman tapped her cheek and smiled. 

"I will have to teach you the simplest waltz, a four count movement. Then we can increase from there. Don't worry my dear, you'll be ready to dance for the Game in no time."

Hadiden nodded and steeled himself as Vivienne walked into his personal space, ready to teach. Part of Hadiden wished that Dorian wasn't busy and could teach him, feeling more comfortable with the Tevinter than the woman that wanted Circles for all mages. The Dalish elf could only imagine having Dorian's hands on his hips, pulling him closer as they sway or dance to the beat of a song. Part of Hadiden would allow it, allow to be flush against his solid form, just like when he was cradled against Dorian in the mountains from the Haven attack-

"Inquisitor, what in the Maker's name are you thinking about? Surely that far off gaze isn't for me," Vivienne said. Hadiden felt his cheeks burn up. The elf even felt his ears shift a little, the tips burning from Vivienne catching him mid- daydream. 

"N-No," Hadiden stuttered. "I was..." Hadiden hesitated. He could tell Vivienne about his daydream, his guilty pleasure of imagining he wasn't afraid to be close to Dorian. But instead, he decided to cover it up with something he was already previously thinking about. 

"I was thinking about what a scout informed me of; about Dorian arguing with someone," Hadiden said. "The Spy Master asked that I look into it, but I haven't been able to speak with Dorian all day."

Vivienne gave a small smile. "My dear, don't fret over our dear Tevinter. For now, your only concern is learning to dance."

"Of course," Hadiden said, nodding. With that, the lesson began. Vivienne was actually a really good teacher, probably since she was an Enchanter at a Circle. But the woman made the steps and movements easy for the elf to follow. At first it was awkward, having a taller partner as Hadiden tried to lead. Vivienne had to remind the elf that at Winter Palace, if he has to dance, most of his partners will be taller than him. Hadiden was at a disadvantage from being so short, but dancing was not completely against him. If he could just get the footing right, his height didn't matter; he just had to be the leader. 

"That's it, darling," Vivienne encouraged. It had been about twenty minutes and Hadiden was already getting the flow of the basic movements. Of course, he was just spinning in a circle in the middle of his chambers, but he was getting it. With the basics of the movements down, Vivienne started instructing the elf in how to spin his partner, how to move beyond a circle, and how to dip his partner. At first, he stumbled in spinning the taller woman, only because his arm wasn't quite long enough to get over her head. But after three more times, he was able to do it without a problem. Going outside the box movements was a little more challenging because he didn't know where other dancers would be, how they would move around him, and if his partner would follow his movements. But Vivienne was a fantastic teacher and partner because she seemed to understand Hadiden's movements. When he finally decided to try the dip, he almost felt his arm give out but held strong, watching Vivienne lean back. There was no doubt about her looking graceful, like she knew how to charm everyone just by movement alone. 

Naturally, the two went through the dance again, and again, until a there was a knock at Hadiden's door. The elf told the knocker to come in as he finished his dance with Vivienne. When the elf parted from the mage woman, a rush of relief flooded him. The scout looked confused to see the Enchanter and Inquisitor alone, but didn't say anything about it. 

"Inquisitor," the scout said. "The Ambassador wishes for you to see her when you have a moment to spare. It's in regards to your lessons and uniform for the Winter Palace."

Hadiden nodded. "Of course. Let Josephine know I'll see her in just a few minutes." The hooded man nodded and made his way down the stairs. This gave the Dalish elf time to look at his teacher. He gave a small smile and asked, "do we need to continue today?"

The woman shook her head. "No, Inquisitor, I think that's enough for the day. You're an exceptionally good dancer and should have no trouble. We can go over your dancing before the ball, if that pleases you." 

Hadiden nodded and thanked Vivienne, agreeing lessons before the ball would be welcome and helpful before going down his stairs, leading the way back to the main hall of the Inquisition. Hadiden was forced to greet some of the nobles waiting, hoping to meet him. Some of them tried to touch him, but the elf made sure to avoid the contact. He apologized and excused himself, saying he needed to meet with the ambassador. When he finally was able to sneak into Josephine's office, Hadiden was surprised to see Dorian, Leliana, and two women with measuring tapes. Hadiden didn't understand the need for Dorian and Leliana since he figured they would be measuring him for his uniform. But he didn't question it. He simply smiled and said, "good morning everyone. I was asked for?"

Hadiden's attitude had gotten better since he had returned to Skyhold. After yelling at Solas and then receiving a letter from his mother, things seemed to have been getting better. Dorian was helping him with his reading and writing. Part of their lessons was actually reading the letter from Anudia and then writing a return letter. 

_My dearest Hadiden,_   
_Da'len, you have no idea how worried your father and I was about you! Neither one of us knew what had happened to you after the explosion, and then word spread to the clan that a Dalish elf was held captive as a criminal for causing the explosion. None of us believed you were the cause of the explosion, but we did not know how to prove your innocence. It was not until we received a letter from your Spymaster that our worries were put to rest. But why in Mythal's name do you have a Spymaster?_   
_Your father and I are well. It's been hard without you, my child; to know that you are far away, leading humans in a war in much more than we can imagine is baffling. But, as we were proud of one of the People defeating the Blight, the clan has never been prouder. Your grandmother tells tales to the children about you, about what you are doing. I've heard the young ones saying they want to be like you! Can you believe it? Your name has become a blessing within the clan, and during the next meeting of the clans, your father has promised to let every clan know that we are the clan that raised the Lord Inquisitor._   
_As much as I wish you would return to the clan, I understand you have dire work to do. The forest we are staying in near Wycome is decent, but I wish it were closer to your Inquisition. I hope once that the winter has passed that your father and I can travel, with the blessing of the Keeper, to come and visit you. Unless your Inquisition is disbanded before, then I pray that you return to us. If you do not, we understand that you have tasted freedom and do not want to waste your chance in the world for more. I hope that the world outside the clan has treated you with more respect and love than what your father and I have given you._   
_With great love, Anudia_

_I hope you do not still believe your gift to be a curse. While the world of humans may not be as forgiving of it as your father has led you to believe, it is a valued gift. I hope one day you believe that as much as I do. I love you, da'len._

It was with that that Hadiden had started crying. The final part about his magic being a gift hit him hard and had him crying. Dorian had frowned, placed a hand on top of one of Hadiden's, and stroked his thumb over the top. It was a small gesture, a small comfort, and Hadiden appreciated it. The rest of their lesson was dedicated to Hadiden writing a letter back. Actually, it was Dorian writing while Hadiden said what he wanted to say to him mother. 

_Dear Mother,_   
_I'm glad the clan is fairing well, and that you and father are doing well. The Inquisition has been very kind to me, very understanding. The people here take into consideration of my culture and have taken into respect of my Dalish roots. My Lady Ambassador even knew a Dalish greeting! And if the people do not understand, they ask respectful questions. It's all very nice._   
_Also, I need a Spymaster because my position is a dangerous one. I have already made enemies from siding with the mages in order to close the Breach. I also need her for information outside the Inquisition that may aid in us gaining allies. It's all so very complicated and very shemlan like. I am still trying to understand a great deal of it._   
_I miss you, Father, and the clan. The world of shems is so very confusing. There's a certain way to address nobles, lords and ladies, kings and queens, and even empresses and emperors. It's a mess! There's also specific ways to dress. Did you know I'm not allowed to wear my armor? My Lady Ambassador has gotten me twelve different uniforms to wear around Skyhold so that I'm not wearing any armor or shirts that are too big. Quite disappointing. However, she has managed to get me lessons to learn to read and write. It's been very helpful._   
_While I miss everyone, I do not believe I will return. The Inquisition has shown me freedoms that I had otherwise no knowledge of knowing until now. I enjoy exploring the world of Thedas, even if I do hear slurs from the shems. As for my curse, I do not see it being a problem for now. I have not needed it unless in emergencies like with the clan. Other than that, it's hidden._   
_Please tell everyone in the clan that I miss them. Let Father know I'm doing well and miss him. Tell Grandmother know that I will miss hearing her stories. And inform the Keeper that I will not be returning. I miss you most of all, Mother, and hope that you and Father can see what I have recreated outside the clan._   
_Hadiden Lavellan_   
_scribed by Dorian Pavus_

There had been much more that Hadiden wanted to tell his mother. There was the missions he had gone on, all the people he had met, the delicious foods. He wanted to tell her of Wicked Grace and the drinks. Of Haven being attacked and facing down a magister. She would have laughed if he would have told her about Redcliffe. However, he didn't get a chance to. He didn't want to overwhelm her with all that he had done. If she travels to Skyhold then Hadiden would tell her of all his adventures. Trying to put them all in letters would be too much and give out too many secrets. Leliana would have been upset. 

But standing in Josephine's office with Dorian, Leliana, two seamstresses, and Josephine had Hadiden confused. Was he being outfitted? 

His silent question was answered when the two seamstresses pulled Hadiden onto a crate, forcing him to shed clothing. At first, as his clothes were yanked off, Hadiden could feel his face turn red. They could have asked for him to undress! But he didn't get to an arguing point as Josephine began to talk. 

"Inquisitor, I have the schedule for the day. Since you're done with your dancing lessons for now, we can go on to the next thing on the agenda," Josephine said. Hadiden could hear the pep, the obvious excitement for all that she had planned. Hadiden couldn't share in the excitement, but prompted her to continue. 

"Most of your morning will be spent in the library, helping the tranquil mages and Master Pavus do some research on the Winter Palace and Orlais for when we attend the ball. This will also give you a chance to work on your reading, hence why Master Pavus will be with you. After noon, specifically after you eat, the Commander would like to address some adjustments to training and rumors he's heard about the Red Templars. After that meeting, you will be needed back here for a judgement. I do believe it is one of the Avvar men that you ran into in the Fallow Mire. And after the judgment....."

Josephine continued with a minute by minute schedule of what Hadiden had to do. In full honesty, he didn't want to do any of it. He didn't want to attend meetings, discuss any sort of tactics, or do research on a falling empire. He wanted to grab a cup of tea, those honey cakes he knew the cook had made, and run to his room for the evening. Having to deal with nobles on a daily basis any time he returned to Skyhold made Hadiden tired, physically and emotionally. 

"J-Josie-" Hadiden attempted to say, ignoring the seamstress that was very close to his small clothes. When the Antivan woman looked up, her innocent features playing a charade of not knowing why Hadiden was interrupting her, made her look like a child.

"It's well and all that you have a schedule done for me, but I don't think I can get to all of it," Hadiden admitted. "Can I do the research and judgement today and have the meeting with the Commander done tomorrow morning?" Hadiden's cheeks suddenly flushed as one of the seamstresses ran her hand very carelessly over parts of him she should not have. No one took notice.

Josephine seemed to weigh the idea. Her gentle smile turned into a displeased sigh and frown as she said, "I suppose so. Though, the Commander will not be so pleased, but I assume he will understand."

"He should," Leliana said, saying something for the first time since Hadiden had entered the room. "If he were wise, he would have come in her to discuss matters with the Inquisitor."

"Like you?" Dorian asked. Hadiden couldn't see Leliana but figured she was smirking.

"Of course," she said. The Spymaster walked from her hiding spot behind Hadiden and stood before him, right beside Josephine. 

"Word of the mayor's whereabouts have been report, along with word from Hawke's friend. Hawke has written and says that he will be with his friend and will be there for when you go back to Crestwood. I suspect we will not be venturing back out there until about we go to Celene's gathering." Leliana waited for Hadiden's nod and continued. "Word of your invitation to the Winter Palace has gotten to most of the Empire. I have gathered a few favors, and pulled strings thanks to Josephine's position, and will be able to get you suited for the ball. You're going to stick out, more than you do here, and we thought it best that you look better than everyone attending."

"Except for myself," Dorian chimed. Hadiden laughed.

Leliana scowled before saying, "as I was saying; you aren't going to stand out in appearance, but also, how you play the Game. While you and Master Pavus are going to do research on the Palace, you won't find how to play the Game. Madame de Fer and I will be giving you intense lessons on how to play. You must be ready."

Hadiden waited a heartbeat before asking, "what's the Game?"

Dorian laughed and moved from the wall. "The Game," he started, "is the national sport of Orlais. Everyone wears two masks; the jeweled ones they're always wearing, and the metaphorical ones used to blindside and deceive everyone around them. Those that don't know how to play, to lie so honestly it looks like flattery are usually killed. For important people, you for example, it even more dangerous because you've gathered enemies. Anyone that has a problem will be going after you, and if you can't play, you won't know and your neck will be on the line.

"While Tevinter gatherings weren't exactly like the Game, given there were usually more blood magic rituals and less masks, I'm rather familiar with the gist of it myself. If the Lord Inquisitor wishes for me to aid in his education of the sport, then I am willing to offer my assistance." Dorian looked bored as he offered to teach Hadiden another thing. But, when the elf looked at him and the Tevinter glanced at him, there was a small smile on his lips. Hadiden couldn't stop his own smile. Was he trying to protect Hadiden? To make sure he wasn't found out by accident?

Leliana sighed. "It's not necessary, Dorian. When Lady Vivienne and I are finished teaching the Inquisitor, then you can add in your opinions. Let us at least teach him the basics."

"Of course," Dorian said. And with that, Josephine and Leliana continued their own discussion of what Hadiden would wear to the Winter Palace as he stood quietly being measured for the uniform.

 

"Are we really going to be studying?" Hadiden asked Dorian on their way up the stairs to Tevinter's reading nook. Dorian flashed a smile and shook his head. 

"Not at all. I can tell you all you need to know about the empire of Orlais in fifteen minutes."

"Then what are we doing?" Hadiden asked, sitting in Dorian's seat as the Tevinter picked out a couple books from the shelf.

"I am gathering some books, then we're going to take them to your chambers, and after that you can decide what we do." Dorian turned his head, his profile displaying a powerful jawline, beautiful lips turned into a charming smile, and a gorgeous look at should have been captured as a painting. Hadiden felt his heart stop a moment. 

"I get to pick what we do?" He asked. Dorian nodded. Hadiden sat and thought for a moment. What did he want to do?

"Can we just sit and talk? Maybe steal some of the honey cakes from the kitchens and a bottle of wine?" Hadiden asked, slightly energized from the idea. He was getting his day of relaxing after all. And Dorian's laughter made it all the better. 

"If that is what you wish. You will have to make a public appearance later for the judgement, but until then, we can just talk and eat."

"Can we talk about Tevinter?"

"One of my favorite subjects."

"And you?"

"I love talking about me. I'm very familiar with that subject."

Hadiden laughed and stood once Dorian had his stack of books. It took a little convincing before he gave a few to Hadiden to help carry. Dorian was very adamant on carrying them on his own, not wanting the elf to help him, but Hadiden did so anyways. He figured he needed to help because it was a display to make Josephine believe he was going to study. In reality, he was going to just talk with Dorian. Maybe he'd get the chance to ask why he was arguing with a merchant. Maybe the two of them could practice some of Hadiden's dancing. Or they could practice more of Hadiden's reading and writing. Endless possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as a warning in advance, on Thursday I will be leaving again for more military training. Because of this, I don't know when I will be able to update again. This mean for 2 months my works are going to be left on hold. Don't give up! I'm not quitting and will be back to update as soon as possible. 
> 
> Thank you for reading everyone and will see you when I return home!! <3


	15. The Game Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! Once I got out of training, I got into a civilian job and hadn't had much time to work on this update. But, I finally finished it! I hope you all enjoy and can forgive me!

The smell of vanilla and almond was overwhelming, practically creating a cloud within Hadiden’s room. All the paperwork that Josephine had brought up to the Inquisitor’s room always smelled like her perfume; vanilla bean and almonds, sweet and endearing. If the smell became any stronger, it would be like Josephine’s personality and kill him just by being so strong and sweet. Even the windows were open so that maybe some of the mountain air would weaken the mist. Hadiden wasn't that lucky. 

The Dalish man walked out to the balcony behind his desk, leaning against the railing. Down below was Skyhold, the refugees and soldiers, mages and Templars, his companions and his admirers. Down below was the part of Thedas that could be near, could physically help and offer people to his cause. Down below was all that he was fighting to protect, what the shem’s god chose him for. It was almost a metaphor, Hadiden thought. To be placed in the highest tower in the structure. He was above them all, and if he fell, failed at what he was doing, everyone down below would see it and would die because of his failure. No pressure, right?

“It was so much easier with the clan,” Hadiden said, sighing to himself. No one could hear him, thankfully. They'd believe he was crazy.

“It'll never be easy again,” Hadiden mumbled, running a hand through his hair. The elf shook his head and turned his body to face his room, his back against the rail. “It was never going to be easy since it surfaced. It's only gotten harder.” 

Part of Hadiden missed Desire. Nights in the Beyond were lonely and quiet. There was a demon or two every once in awhile, but they weren't Desire. His friend was still missing, despite all of Dorian’s efforts to help break the wards. Instead of being able to talk to the demon about his waking problems, Hadiden spoke out loud to himself. It was crazy, the elf knew, but he needed it off his chest. He couldn't talk to just anyone, not about his curse or the stress and anxiety he feels from it. Maybe if Desire came back, everything would be okay again. 

Hadiden took a deep breath, filling his lungs with mountain air, fresh and cool, before exhaling as he went back into his room. As much as he wanted to toss all the paper into the fire, to tell Josephine that a fight happened in the room and all the papers were the casualties, he couldn't pull himself to do it. The stacks were organized by trade agreements, treaties and alliances, offers of resources, rumors of Corypheus’s and Samson’s actions, research about the red lyrium, and repair reports of Skyhold. Majority of the documents Hadiden couldn't read without assistance.

The elf was standing behind his desk when he heard his door open, followed by soft steps coming up the stairs. Usually Leliana and Cole were the only two that came into Hadiden’s room unannounced. One time Cullen came in without warning, but Hadiden had been asleep and hadn't heard the Commander. He had apparently brought the elf something to eat, but since Hadiden was asleep, he had set it down for when the elf woke. That had been a busy week, Hadiden only getting three hours of sleep in a four day span. 

But the person coming up the stairs wasn't the spymaster or spirit boy. It was a certain Tevinter, one that was Hadiden’s tutor and closest friend. The sight of Dorian brought Hadiden from behind his desk, moving in front of it and crossing his arms across his chest, smiling. He wasn't scheduled to have a lesson today, but seeing Dorian was a very welcome surprise. 

“So,” Dorian began, smiling back at Hadiden. Wait, no. That wasn't a smile. It was more wicked, a purpose behind the gleam in his eyes. Dorian was smirking. Hadiden’s stomach dropped. 

“This has been nice and all, the flirting, but I am, however, not a very nice man,” Dorian said, making his way gracefully across the room to Hadiden. The elf felt the heat rising in his cheeks, the tips of his ears soon following. Dorian held his smirk, lowering his voice as he made his way behind Hadiden. The air began to stir, like a storm was about to form. Hadiden couldn't tell if the storm was good or bad. 

Hadiden couldn't find his voice for a second. There was a million different things that Dorian could be asking, or suggesting, and Hadiden almost wanted all of them. He wanted to lean back, to fall against Dorian’s solid form and to forget all that he feared. He wanted to turn around, to grab Dorian’s face and kiss him like there was nothing to fear. He didn't want to imagine kissing Dorian and watching him walk away. Hadiden wanted to pull Dorian to the bed, to fall back and forget why he waited so long to let the Tevinter man close. Hadiden didn't want to be afraid with Dorian. But he couldn't. 

Everything was telling Hadiden it was wrong, what he wanted was wrong, and that letting Dorian in was only going to get him hurt. Hadiden felt as though he couldn't breathe when Dorian’s hot breath was in his ear, whispering, “there’ll be rumors, of course, but the question is; how bad does the Inquisitor want to be?”

Hadiden almost leapt away from Dorian, not trusting himself to be so close. He did step away, turning around to face the other man. Dorian looked shocked, his eyes wide and almost pain filled. Hadiden felt himself wanting to hide, to escape the room. He wanted to race down the stairs so that he could escape the painful expression that Dorian wore. He was hurt because of Hadiden’s actions. But the elf felt scared; his eyes wide, ready to jump at the slightest movement. Dorian picked up on it, but his shoulders tensed as his smirk disappeared and was replaced by a frown. 

“Can…” Hadiden hesitated. How could he explain himself? He didn't want Dorian to leave, but he needed something, something more than just flirting and longing stares. He needed more than shy touches and shared spaces during their lessons. He needed more. 

“Can we go slower?” Hadiden asked, feeling like he was seventeen again; inexperienced and timid. He was avoiding saying all that was on his mind. 

“Slower?” Dorian asked, hurt changing to confusion. “We’ve been practically chaste. Any slower and we might as well be counted among the Chantry Hens downstairs.” Dorian stopped, staring at Hadiden. The elf turned his head, avoiding looking at Dorian now. Chaste wasn't that bad, was it?

There was a heavy feeling in the air as Dorian caught what Hadiden was unable to say. 

“Maker - you're asking for a relationship, aren't you?” Dorian asked. Hadiden still wouldn't look up. 

“Is that so bad?” Hadiden asked, feeling himself shrink. 

When Dorian sighed, Hadiden lifted his head and watched the Tevinter man turn to the side and rub his face. 

“Dorian?” Hadiden called out, softly, trying to get his attention. “What's so bad with wanting a relationship?” 

Dorian sighed again before turning to face Hadiden. The elf didn't move but at least kept his head up. 

“In Tevinter, things between two men are strictly pleasure, nothing more,” Dorian started. Hadiden didn't follow. “A relationship isn't commonplace. It isn't hoped for.” Dorian paused. “You don't hope for more.”

More. That's what Hadiden wanted. More with Dorian. He wanted easy mornings where Dorian was beside him, sleeping peacefully and safe. He wanted to feel safe and comfortable and know that Dorian wouldn't get hurt. He didn't want Dorian to leave, didn't want to be kissed and told he was loved only to have Dorian call him something racist. He didn't want his past to repeat. 

Hadiden began to relax at Dorian’s defeated posture; his shoulders were relaxed and he wasn't looking up, his gaze cast towards the ground. The elf felt a pull at his heart, having seen the same look after Dorian had a discussion with his father at Redcliffe. 

_"Selfish, I suppose. Not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside." Dorian had admitted on their travel back to Skyhold. "Living a lie... it festers inside you, like poison. You have to fight for what's in your heart."_

Hadiden moved closer to Dorian, a foot away from the man. 

_Relax, Hadiden. You trust him._

The elf looked up at Dorian, watching his storm grey eyes meet his. There was something Dorian was hiding, pushing away. 

“Say the word and I’ll go,” Dorian said. Pain laced his words, making Hadiden’s chest tighten. “I won't like it, but I'll forget that this happened and we go on with our respective duties.”

“And if I ask you to stay?” Hadiden asked. That made Dorian’s gaze turn, to focus fully on Hadiden. The elf kept talking. 

“I may not know how relationships work, not exactly, but I don't want you to leave. I want more with you, Dorian.”

Dorian huffed a forced laugh. “Foolish.”

“Let's be foolish together,” Hadiden said. Hesitantly, the elf reached out and placed his hand on Dorian’s cheek. The Tevinter man stiffened then leaned into the touch. He wanted to be foolish. He wanted to have Dorian and to not be afraid. He would have to learn to overcome his own fears, but if he and Dorian slowed down, it would be okay, right?

Dorian gave a small smile and laughed, this time not so sad. 

“All right, but it will be work,” Dorian said. “But I will give it a chance.” 

“But we can still take it slow?” Hadiden asked, dropping his hand. Dorian caught it, making Hadiden tense for a second. _Relax. You aren't going to hurt him._

“Of course,” Dorian said, gently squeezing Hadiden’s hand. It was small, but it was more than either one of them was used to, Hadiden was sure. “But, I'm not leaving your room without at least a kiss.”

Hadiden huffed but smiled. The elf forced his reserves and fears away and stood on his tiptoes, placing his lips against Dorian’s cheek. It was feather light and quick, but it was more than what Hadiden was used to. 

“Was that all right?” Hadiden asked. Dorian laughed, smiling. His eyes got the little crows feet at the corners, making Hadiden smile. 

“It's a start,” Dorian said, moving away from Hadiden’s personal space. 

The elf had to watch Dorian go, but it didn't hurt. It was okay. They agreed on more, on slow. Hadiden could learn to shut out his fears, to find his old self. Creators, this was his start, wasn't it? Was this what Cole meant when he wanted Hadiden to ignore the fear? Or was it about his magic?

Hadiden sighed and smiled to himself. He would think about it later. 

 

“Why does it got balls?” Sera asked, peeking over Hadiden’s shoulder. The Dalish elf furrowed his brows as he ran his finger over Dorian’s birthright. He still didn't quite understand what was important from it. 

The two elves were sitting in the tavern, specifically in Sera’s room. While Sera really didn't like the Dalish, she didn't mind Hadiden so much. While he was extremely elfy, he avoided being so around her. The two actually had a bit in common; unruly, choppy blond hair, natural talents with a bow, and being gay. She had actually gone with Hadiden to Orlais to investigate why Dorian kept arguing with a merchant. 

“I don't know, but this little necklace had Dorian upset,” Hadiden said. 

“Yea, I remember that. Got real up tight and pissy with ya in Orlais.”

Hadiden sighed. Remembered it too. He remembered having to go run errands for Josephine and taking Dorian, Cassandra and Sera. Cassandra and Dorian were supposed to do half the shopping while Sera and Hadiden did the other half. But, while Sera and Hadiden were shopping, they met with a merchant.

_“Ah! Friends! Welcome!” He had greeted. Hadiden frowned._

_“Were you the merchant Master Pavus was arguing with?” Hadiden had asked, feeling uncomfortable using his title. Sera had snickered behind him._

_“Indeed,” the man said. “And you must be the Inquisitor. A powerful friend.”_

_Hadiden looked back at Sera. The other elf shrugged, mouthing the word ‘bees?’ as though she was waiting for him to give her permission to throw them. Hadiden considered it._

_When he turned back, he had talked to the man about whatever a Tevinter Birthright was. They spoke about Dorian wanting to back and how Hadiden could get it for him. Hadiden had almost finished when Dorian came storming up and demanding to know what Hadiden was doing._

“Dorian and I haven't talked much about it since it happened,” Hadiden said. He traced over one of the snakes, following it from head to tail. “I don't think he knows I have it yet. But he was upset I was getting it.”

“Probably thinks he’ll owe ya,” Sera said with a shrug, finally sitting beside Hadiden. The Dalish elf frowned and closed his hand around the birthright, afraid to let go.

“Owe me?”

“Yea, like. You did something for him and he's gotta repay you.” There was a pause. “Or people gonna start askin’ you to get ‘em things because you have the power to do it.”

“No one is going to ask me for things,” Hadiden said. 

Sera smirked and batted her eyelashes like a child as she said, “but I need more bees, Lord Inquisy Pants!”

Hadiden laughed. “You already have enough bees, Sera! A whole bunch is coming!”

“See!” She exclaimed. “But I had asked for bees, and boom! I got bees. People gonna start doin’ that more if ya keep just doin’ nice things like that. And before ya knowit, Coryphytit is gonbe up here askin’ you for a new army and dragon beast.”

Hadiden couldn't help but smile and laugh. Sera might be right in her very strange analogy. But how could Hadiden stay serious any time Sera called Corypheus anything other than his name. It always made Hadiden giggle. 

“C’mon, Quizzy, let’s go get a few drinks and then pull a couple pranks before the sun is down, ya?”

Hadiden slipped the birthright into his pocket, careful with it. “Want to get Solas tonight?”

“This is why you're my favorite!” Sera laughed, running out the room. Hadiden jumped up and followed. He wasn't exactly a kid anymore, but Creators he missed being childish. And plus, anything to piss of Solas was funny. 

The birthright could wait, couldn't it?

 

“... And don't forget to smile! You always so look sad when you don't,” Josephine tutted, leaning forward in the carriage to fix a strand of Hadiden’s hair. After Hadiden had gotten dressed, the Antivan ambassador about had a fit about Hadiden’s hair. It reminded him of his mother, of how many times he would come back from a hunt and still have his hair messy and in his face. It was endearing andhurt his heart. He missed his mother and wished she would write him back again.

But before they left, Josephine had asked Cullen to fix Hadiden’s hair, wanting it slicked back like the Commander’s. The elf had to sit patiently while the Commander put weird sticky stuff in his hair and began to comb it back. Hadiden really didn't like it; being close to Cullen and his hair being styled. 

While he was fixing his hair, Cullen asked, “how are you?”

Hadiden sat there unsure what to say. It was kind of awkward. Hadiden knew he was a former Templar. Templars made mages tranquil. Hadiden was right under the hands that could strip him of everything. But the elf just asked back, “what do you mean?”

Another pause before Cullen asked, “how are you holding up? I can only imagine the stress you feel. I'm curious and concerned.”

After that, the two had actually had a peaceful chat. Hadiden learned about Cullen having a family, a little bit as to why he joined and then left the Order, and that Cullen wasn't exactly as harmful as he seemed, mostly because he wasn't taking his lyrium. 

But in the carriage, Hadiden hated the stiff feeling of his hair, how it was flat on his head and not fluffy against it. He wasn't to see the curls and bright locks of his blond hair. Luckily, a few strands couldn't be tamed and fell against his forehead. Part of Hadiden wanted to hide his forehead because he knew the nobles would say something about his detailed vallaslin. It was only a matter of time. 

“You do remember all the tips that Lady Leliana gave you about the Game?” Hadiden nodded. “And remember, Master Pavus, Lady Pentaghast, Master Tethras will be there to help you, along with the Commander, Lady Leliana, and myself.” There was a pause. “You aren't alone here, no matter how much someone wants you to believe you are.”

Hadiden nodded and pretended to fix the collar of his uniform. He wasn't wearing the same red uniform as everyone else was wearing. Josephine wanted to make a statement by putting him in a fitted forest green uniform. The shirt went down to his hips and tapered off into a V shape. On the front was a gold stitched design of a tree, similar to his vallaslin. The branches went up to his shoulders as vines went flowing down his arms to his wrists. His pants were black leather, durable and fashionable. His boots were black, but they had metal plating. Because the metal was so dark, no one could see it unless they stared right at it. Until he met Celene, Hadiden was forced to wear a cape; black with gold underneath. Josephine wanted Hadiden to stand out whereas Hadiden wanted to blend in. He wasn't here to mingle, he was here to find the spy and save Celene’s life. 

But under his collar he felt two necklaces; the leather one that his mother had given him and Dorian’s birthright. Hadiden never got the chance to give it to him yet, not before the ball. He hoped tonight didn't end in his demise so that maybe he could give it to Dorian. Dorian was less angry, but the two never really got to solve the problem about the birthright yet. 

In the carriage in front of his was Leliana and Cullen. Behind him was Dorian, Cassandra and Varric. His Spymaster and Commander would lead the troops in, creating a big show while Hadiden and Josephine entered after the small platoon of soldiers. Behind them would be about six or eight more soldiers who would be escorting his remaining party members. Josephine wanted to display the power of the Inquisition, along with the grace and dignity. Hadiden was to be the center of it all. No pressure for him, right? 

When the carriage stopped and the door opened, Josephine carefully climbed out. Hadiden soon followed and offered a gloved hand to the Ambassador. She took it, a feather light grip around his hand. It was all for show, both knew that. He was supposed to play the role of the noble gentleman and escort his darling partner to the gates of the Winter Palace. There were always eyes watching. If he didn't escort her to the gates, someone inside would find out and rumors would begin. Rumors would start from this event, but they wouldn't be as harmful. It would make the wild Dalish seem less savage. 

Hadiden watched as the sea of troops began to part. He knew when to drop Josephine’s hand, letting her catch up with Leliana and Cullen so that Hadiden would enter presumably by himself. He was to hold his chin up, give a commanding stare, and try not to look amazed. He was to act as though the Winter Palace bored him unless asked by a noble or Celene herself. He wasn't to act Dalish. Pleasant. 

But the wandering eye of his was hard to contain. He wanted to look at the palace, to look at how it shined in the moon light. He didn't want to play noble shem for the noble shems. He wanted to be Dalish and to be in awe of the structure and beauty of it all. But he couldn't do that when the troops finally ended, his advisors making an announcement of his arrival, and his show beginning. He had to do as he was taught when he stepped through the gates, listening to Cullen announce the Inquisition’s arrival, along with the Lord Inquisitor, Hadiden Lavellan. 

When his announcement was completed, a man in half armor and half dress clothes approached Hadiden. He wore a mask, one that covered his face and made it look like a weird dog. And Orlesians made fun of Ferelden and their obsession with dogs? Aside from the weird mask, the man bowed before Hadiden and said with a heavy accent, “my Lord Inquisitor. It is an honor to finally make your acquaintance. I am, as you know, Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons.”

“The pleasure is mine, Grand Duke,” Hadiden said with his own bow. The Dalish elf could already feel all the eyes watching his movements, judging him. He could feel the hatred they all felt towards elves, towards the Dalish. There was disapproval in the air, and Hadiden only made it worse. Tonight was going to be long, the elf realized. This first meeting was only the start of many. Many more would be judged, be judged by a larger crowd. This was his only chance to set the night on the right foot. If he didn't, everything would be for nothing. 

“Come, Lord Inquisitor. I shall show you the gardens,” Grand Duke Gaspard said before lowering his voice, “and speak of what we aim to do here tonight.”

And so the Game begins, Hadiden thought to himself before saying, “of course. Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I some how managed to trigger the romance scene without getting Dorian his birthright. It was almost right after meeting his father and I think I got his approval too high without it. But, I needed an excuse to get them to come to an understanding soon so here it is! 
> 
> Thank you again to everyone reading! Look forward to the next update soon!


	16. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Poor Hadiden and the Winter Palace. He hates it so much. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience and please enjoy!!

Someone should have grabbed Hadiden and yelled at him to run. Being in the Winter Palace was more dangerous than facing down Corypheus. Gaspard indirectly gave Hadiden the order to help him take the throne from the Empress and to watch out for Briala. Briala had a whole network of spies, working against the elf’s former lover. How Hadiden was to eliminate Corypheus’s spies, bring down Briala, and help Gaspard, the Dalish didn't know. The Dalish elf barely got through the courtyard without hearing, “is _that_ the Inquisitor? What kind of joke is this?” 

Hadiden realized very quickly that if he was to gain approval, he'd have to put on his own mask, to play the Game with charm and a smile. He couldn't fight his opponents with arrows. These challengers needed to be taken down with words, a flashy smile, fake sentiment-

“Fenedhis!” Hadiden swore, spinning around to face a masked man and a gaggle of women giggling. What in Creator’s name-

“Most interesting,” the man said. “Are elf ears anything like human ears?” The noble man spoke slowly and deliberately, as though Hadiden couldn't understand the common tongue. In his defense, Hadiden did swear in Elvish, but he knew how to speak common. 

“My _ears_ are like any other ears,” Hadiden said, his ears shifting down, like a dog’s ears when it is nervous. 

“Is it not rude to go and touch another man without consent? Or am I mistaken? Is it an _Orlesian_ custom to intrude on another’s personal space?” Hadiden asked. The man took half a step back. Hadiden stared, waiting. He hadn't even gone into the Palace and already hated every human gathered. 

“My apologies, ser…” the man started, stopping only after realizing he didn't know who he had offended. Hadiden crossed his arms. 

“ _Lord_ Inquisitor,” Hadiden finished. “Lord Inquisitor Lavellan, m’Lord. If you’ll excuse me, I have a court to be introduced to and peace talks to accompany.”

With that, Hadiden lifted his chin and turned away. He walked until he was well out of view of the man, heading up half a flight of stairs. Maybe if he stayed right here, right out of the view of everyone, he could get through the night. 

To try and hide away from the man who grabbed his ear, Hadiden went up one set of stairs. If he went up another, he would be on a floor that overlooked the courtyard. Part of Hadiden wanted to go to the top of the stairs, but he didn't want to deal with the nobles at the top. If he stayed in the shade, in his little corner, no one could touch him, see him, bother him. He would be invisible to all those that would gawk and make a mockery of him. Or at least, treat him like some kind of freed animal that they should poke at. Hadiden almost wanted to bite their fingers if they attempted to touch him again. Or, he thought, he could pull out his concealed knife. Josephine didn't have to know, right?

“Have you heard anything from the front lines?” Someone asked above Hadiden. The elf looked up and realized that the people above him had no idea he was below. The nobles had no idea that there was an elf, the Inquisitor, was lurking below. Hadiden felt like one of Leliana’s spies, listening and learning what others didn't know. Hadiden stayed quiet. 

“No, nothing,” a woman said. The first speaker, a man, sighed. 

“It's a wasteland out there. So much carnage.”

“Do you think the peace talks will end it?”

“I hope.”

“And if hope is not enough?”

“Pray…. pray that the Maker hears us now.”

Hadiden stood a moment, images of death, of a field with nothing but bodies piled and dead, surrounding him. The Civil War was killing hundreds of men and women who were fighting for the two leaders inside the palace. The leaders whom were sipping wine and having spies kill one another for a Game. Hadiden hated them both. 

 

“Accompanying Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons is the Lord Inquisitor, Hadiden Lavellan of Clan Lavellan, Herald of Andraste, master of the Breach, savior of the Rebel Mages.”

Hadiden stepped carefully onto the ballroom dance floor. He stood a moment, his chin up, back straight, shoulders squared. One wrong move, one wrong step, and all of Orlais would be judging him. He couldn't hide, couldn't cower. He had to preform just as Josephine and Leliana taught him to. He could do this.

If Hadiden only knew, he would know that the Empire was stunned at his appearance. Hadiden had no idea the rumors that were told about him: a savage Dalish that had been accused of killing the Divine. A Dalish elf raised to the position of Lord through his trials against the Breach and Corypheus. A wild Dalish that had no formal understanding of civilization. What the nobles of Orlais were witnessing was not that story. They were seeing a man, an elven man, proud of his roots and deeds, a man held in high esteem through his hard work and respect. They were witnessing the most powerful man in all of Thedas, gracefully walking across the ballroom floor to join the traitor Grand Duke before the Empress, his advisors and party members being announced after him. He carried a veteran of the Fifth Blight and notorious Game player, a former Templar and current Commander of his armies, an Antivan Ambassador, a Seeker and Nevarran Princess, infamous colleague of the Champion of Kirkwall and famous author, and Tevinter Altus, next in line to be a Magister in the Magisterium and rumored lover to the Inquisitor. Lord Inquisitor Lavellan had the power to crush whoever he wished, whenever he wished, and no one in Orlais could stop him. 

Little did the nobles know, Hadiden do not know of his own power. 

Once his companions and advisors were announced, Hadiden stood beside Grand Duke Gaspard and gave a bow to Empress Celene. Beside the Empress was another woman, one that Hadiden had yet to be informed of. But he didn't have time to pay attention to her. Empress Celene gave a nod for Hadiden to stand straight again and smiled. 

“My Lord Inquisitor, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you,” Empress Celene said, her accent heavy and charming. No wonder the Empire liked her. She was lovely. However, there was an unsettling feeling in Hadiden’s stomach as he realized the entire ballroom was waiting for his response. He could feel Josephine holding her breath, afraid of what he will say. He could feel the tension in Leliana’s muscles, ready for her undercover agents to jump and attack if Hadiden made one wrong move. He could hear Dorian and Cassandra’s prayers that Hadiden did not mess up and didn't get himself killed. He could almost hear Varric’s pen itching to write what happens next as the Dalish Inquisitor embarrassed himself in front of the Orlesian court. 

But Hadiden flashed a smile, mimicking the one he watched form on Dorian’s face. He held the perfect smile as he said, “the pleasure is mine, your Majesty. It's an honor to be here.”

It was as though there was a sigh of relief as Hadiden played his role. Celene smiled back at him. 

“The honor should be mine,” she said. “Tales of your trials and adventures have made for long conversations at night. You're a man of many wonders, Inquisitor. Your presence is like a cool breeze on a summer's day; refreshing and more than welcome.” Hadiden didn't know if the Empress said that because he was an outsider coming in, coming to stop whatever foul plans were in motion or because he was possibly an ally for her. He didn't know and didn't like either idea.

“What do you think of the Winter Palace?” Celene asked, gesturing out towards the ballroom floor. 

Hadiden’s smile didn't break as he said, “it is magnificent. I have never seen such a place in my life.” He wasn't lying. The Winter Palace was beautiful; decorated with gold in almost every corner, reflecting the moonlight. It made the Palace shine on the outside. Inside, it was warm and inviting, if the place wasn't crawling with spies. Hadiden thought the Palace matched the aesthetics of all of Orlais; beautifully dangerous. 

The Inquisitor was then introduced to the Grand Duchess, Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons, Gaspard’s cousin. Her powdered white skin was eerie, her mask practically hiding her eyes from Hadiden. Her small smirk made the elf uncomfortable as she said, “I was not expecting such an esteemed guest here tonight.”

Hadiden didn't let his smile drop as he said, “I seem to have a skill at turning up in rather unexpected places. Though, I was invited here tonight, so I had thought my arrival was expected.”

Florianne looked at Hadiden intensely as Celene let out a quiet giggle. The Empressed added, “it seems that my dear brother had forgotten to inform you of the Inquisitor’s invitation, Cousin.”

“So it seems,” Florianne said. When Gaspard cut in, demanding to get to the peace talks, Empress Celene excused herself. Grand Duchess Florianne side glanced Hadiden and said, “we shall talk again later, dear Inquisitor.” 

Hadiden was then beckoned off to the side to speak with Josephine and Leliana. 

_Creators, help me get through tonight._

 

Hadiden grabbed a glass of champagne off of a tray being carried by one of the servants. Maybe if he was drinking the damn thing people wouldn't mistake him for one of the servants. Already four guests had accused him of loafing around and demanded a drink. Three people asked why he was dressed like a noble. One person even attempted to talk to him by using hand gestures and mminimal words. Hadiden had to fight every nerve in his body to not reach for the dagger in his boot and stab a noble. Even some of the servants acted as though he was someone’s personal servant. One elf asked if he was Lady Pentaghast’s personal servant. That wasn't a stab in his pride, not at all. 

But even a glass of champagne wasn't going to help change how people saw him. However, it allowed him to blend in and listen to gossip. 

Most of what he heard was useless. Well, useless in retrospect to his mission. He heard of treaties, alliances, marriages, affairs, secret attacks, and much more that Leliana could use to bribe noble for aid. Only Leliana would know how to use marriage affairs, alliances, and much more to the Inquisition's advantage. It just required Hadiden to listen. Like he was doing now. 

A man was complaining about a servant going off and loafing around. Or playing with a lady. Hadiden couldn't tell, but it seemed the noble wanted to hear that he was right and his servant was horrible. 

The elf moved from his spot against the wall, picking up a piece of paper before finding the noble.

“Where is that lazy elf!” The man sighed, throwing his hands towards another servant. The elf stuttered and scurried away. Hadiden’s stomach dropped, not liking having to mingle with the noble man. However, he took a sip of his drink as he approached, saying, “a servant of yours is missing?”

The noble nodded, sighing. “My servant, Philippe decided to go off and roll with some maid, leaving me to deal with the rest of the Council.”

Hadiden wanted to bite his tongue. He wanted to ask why did it matter what Philippe was doing. But he didn't. The elf said, “Philippe sounds like a real jerk. He's left you with to deal with the Council of Heralds all on your own. Not to mention that it's also the night with the Grand Duke, Grand Duchess, and Empress all going over peace talks!”

The man nodded. “Exactly! If I didn't have reports of the Grand Duke threatening the rest of the Council, I might not be as aggravated about Philippe’s disappearance. But he is the one carrying the information to use against the Grand Duke and I do not feel comfortable with him being off with it.” The noble adjusted his sleeve and then his collar before saying, “I thank you, Inquisitor, for listening to my complaint. No other has listened tonight. It seems dark things lurk in these halls.”

“That they do, Monsieur,” Hadiden agreed. The nobleman excused himself, leaving Hadiden to himself. Of course, the elf looked around and found a loose document, but other than that, there was nothing else to take from the room. Well, he could take the knowledge that he was given:

The Grand Duke had his own plot here, even without the Inquisition’s help. 

 

Celene’s ladies in waiting stopped Hadiden from going out to the gardens. Honestly, the Winter Palace was getting stuffy, and he needed air. Of course, Hadiden nodded and thanked them for delivering a message and said he would consider an alliance with Celene. While she wasn't the most horrible candidate for the throne, he still didn't like her. Rumors of her relationship with Briala put the elf on edge. Power corrupts people, and in some cases, turns a relationship toxic and kills an alienage of innocent elves. 

But, like the refreshing cool air of the night, Hadiden spotted Dorian. While seeing Cassandra, Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine was nice, they all had opinions of who needed to be on the throne, who to support, where to get information. Hadiden hoped that the Altus didn't want to be a part of the politics tonight. Yet, he was there to support Hadiden’s decision on the throne’s successor, or at least lend his opinion. Maybe seeing Dorian wasn't as refreshing as Hadiden initially thought. 

Whether Dorian had an opinion of who's butt was to be on the throne, Hadiden still went to join him. The elf couldn't help notice the glances, the whispering, and side steps around Dorian. Either the people were avoiding Dorian because he was Tevinter or because they assumed his relationship with the Inquisitor. Dorian didn't seem to mind, not with how he was looking at the drink in his hand. Hadiden smiled when the Altus looked up from his drink. Suddenly, concentrated features turned soft, a smirk forming on his lips. 

“And there he is. The Inquisitor finally graces the yard with his presence,” Dorian said, jokingly. Hadiden couldn't tell if he was trying to get everyone’s attention or to turn them away. The Dalish elf didn't care. 

“Finally able to slip away from the main party,” Hadiden admitted before sighing. 

“I want to go back to Skyhold,” he whispered, loud enough for Dorian to hear. The Tevinter Altus’s smirk dropped, his hand lowering to set his wineglass down nearby. 

“Finally sick of adventuring?” He asked. As if the Winter Palace and preventing murder was an adventure. Hadiden rubbed his eye and shook his head. 

“I'm tired of playing the Game. I'm tired. Tired of the nobles acting like I'm dumb, hearing racist slurs, being asked to fetch drinks or plates of food or something. Did you know I got called rabbit and knife ear? Once, both were used in the same sentence. Two different nobles tried to talk to me with hand gestures. They waved their arms and talked slowly and tried to make shapes and things for me to understand. It was as though they were trying to talk to an animal. Once, I was speaking with Cassandra and some noblewoman tried to speak to me through Cassandra. It was as though she couldn't talk to me.Our favorite Seeker put the woman in here place and told her to speak to me directly, but it was really embarrassing for me.” Hadiden groaned. “And in the courtyard, before even getting into the Palace, a man tried to grab my ear. My ear, Dorian! I hate it here.”

The Inquisitor crossed his arms across his chest, his shoulders pulling in. He felt small, felt as though something was going to go wrong. Hadiden had no idea how he was supposed to keep up the charming fasçade that everyone needed him to put on. And on top of that, if his nerves went up any higher than they were, the elf feared his magic would react. Something was bound to go wrong, something horrible. Something always happened when Hadiden didn't want it to. Tonight was not the night to have his curse revealed to the Council of Heralds and the Empress. 

Dorian’s smirk faded completely, turning into a frown. “I hadn't realized…” he started but paused. “In Tevinter, whenever I was invited to a gathering, usually put on by my parents or Alexius, I wasn't able to see those sort of things happening.”

“It’s because you're human, and an Altus, Dorian,” Hadiden said. 

“That still doesn't dismiss what's happening here tonight,” Dorian said. “I may not have heard the slurs, the comments, witnessed the hand gestures and slowed speech, but that doesn't make it less demeaning and disrespectful.” There was a pause. “If it truly means anything, I'm sorry you have to be here and dealing with all of this. But you aren't alone; I’m here.”

Hadiden felt his heart swell a bit. The weight of the birthright under his shirt weighed down, as if burning a spot on his chest. He wanted to give it to him, wanted Dorian to know that he got it and they didn't have to tiptoe around the subject anymore. But now wasn't the time. Now was not the time to bring up the jewelry against his chest. 

“I just want to make it out of this alive,” Hadiden admitted. Dorian huffed and gave a smile. No, just a tug at the corner of his lips; a half smile. 

“I'm sure you will. If you can stare down an ancient magister, I'm sure a couple spies aren't anything to you,” Dorian assured. As the Altus grabbed his wine again, Hadiden sighed. 

“You're right. I'm just glad you're here to help. I appreciate it.” Hadiden paused. “However, I expect a dance if we make it through this with our necks intact.”

Dorian laughed, his cheeks turning pink. Was he blushing?

“In front of the Orleisan Court? Can you imagine the scandal that would create?”

Hadiden shrugged. “I'm sure everyone will live.”

Dorian laughed, sipping his wine. “Truly? I hope so. Unless you can find me ten silk scarves. I have a dance that would leave them stunned. Though, the scandal might ruin my family’s name even in Tevinter.”

Both men laughed before Hadiden continued on his quest for information on Briala’s spies, Celene’s secrets, and Gaspard’s plans. 

 

Hadiden loved puzzles and to be in Celene’s study and stash below the room, he felt like a thief. It was fun, sure. He could be found and killed and no one would notice. But that didn't matter. Hadiden had no idea what he was finding. He couldn't read, not quick enough anyways, and he would be giving the documents to Leliana or Josephine for them to tell him what he found. Until he could read better, he would need their assistance. 

The Dalish man went into the study and searched the desk. Most of it was useless, a lot of numbers and papers that didn't seem like it would impact his mission. It was when Hadiden spotted a fancy letter, one with the wax carefully lifted instead of cut, that the elf knew he found something. He carefully folded it and placed it into his pouch and continued to look through the papers. Nothing appeared, nothing note worthy. When he stepped into the Grand Library, the first bell rang. 

“To the ballroom,” he muttered. He began his return but stopped to pick up a coin purse. Handy. 

When Hadiden could hear the ballroom music again, he felt better. He wouldn't be late, not now. Something important was happening, right? That's why the bell rang. As the Inquisitor’s hand wrapped around the handle into the ballroom, a woman’s voice rang behind him, a chill stopping him from moving forward and making his head turn back. 

“Well, well…. What have we here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I almost forgot but I'm going to try and participate in NaNoWriMo. It won't be an original work but instead a fic for Dragon's Dogma. I'm still going to work on this but most of November will be dedicated to it. You guys are welcome to read it! It'll be a lot of angst but it'll be a fun ride!
> 
> Again, thank you all for reading and supporting and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Look forward to the next parts to this quest :D


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